


Prince David

by Valkyrie_of_Eyre



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Caught in the Rain, Fluff and Angst, Historical Roleplay, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrie_of_Eyre/pseuds/Valkyrie_of_Eyre
Summary: Prince David has a new joust trainer, Lord Patrick of Brewington.  Feelings ensue.  They get caught in a rainstorm.  Shenanigans ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic... enjoy?  
At any rate, I had a lot of fun writing this. I researched absolutely nothing, so feel free to amuse yourself with the historical inaccuracies. I figured if I took the time to research I would psych myself out and never actually start writing. And here we are.

**PRINCE DAVID **

**LONG MAY HE F*CKING REIGN**

The stench from the horses drifted out of the timbered building and enveloped Prince David of the Kingdom of Rosewood in a malodorous cloud. The prince strode forward in irritation, biting the heels of his black boots into the caked dirt, stomping his way across the ground. 

“I’m not going to compete” he thought, “so why do I have to train? I can ride a damn horse, I just don’t want to. Let Alexis jab a pole at someone for a change.” 

The prince snapped a twig in half with the heel of his boot as his long legs bore him forward into the stables.

“Where is this damn trainer anyway,” he said, stopping in front of his horse’s stall and gesturing his hands around in frustration.

A man stepped out of a stall down to the right, grinning at Prince David. He turned and latched the stall behind himself, then bowed his head briefly as he approached his student. 

“Your Highness” he said by way of greeting. He looked at the prince through his eyelashes as he awaited the royal acknowledgement. 

Prince David gave a brief nod back. The trainer noticed that the prince’s gaze swept swiftly over his entire body before coming up to level. That glance made the trainer feel a frisson of… something. He tucked the reaction away into his brain to examine at leisure. Right now he had royalty to deal with. And this royal seemed less by-the-book than the others with whom he had come into contact.

“You must be the trainer.” The Prince David’s voice lilted up at the end, turning his declarative statement into a hint of a question.

“Lord Patrick of Brewington, at your service” the young man responded. Lord Patrick kept his face neutral, but the prince thought he saw a hint of a smile floating somewhere in his visage, ghosting around the curves of the trainer’s cheeks or the corners of his eyes. “Knight.”

“Indeed?” Prince David said with an arch of an elegant black eyebrow. It was one thing to be born a lord, but to achieve the status of knight was very impressive. It was a title not easily won in his parents’ kingdom. To have met his father’s standard for hard work and competence as well as his mother’s standard for chivalry and ingenuity was not easy to do, especially at the age of… how old was this kid anyway? He looked about twenty years old at the most. 

“How long have you been a knight?” Prince David queried. He had the feeling the kid would almost-smile at him again if he made a wrong step. Prince David found that he found the idea galling.

“Three weeks. I was invested on my birthday, when I became of age to be knighted.” 

Astonishment swept Prince David’s face. An impressive feat indeed. The astonishment morphed into a scowl as a broad smile broke over the Lord Patrick’s face. _Was _this 21-year-old mocking him? 

“Why have I not heard of you before now?” the prince asked, his lips pursing and curling to the side. He didn't care that it was a less than tactful next question-- he hoped to put this kid in his place.

But if anything, it made the knight’s smile grow even wider. 

“I arrived recently and was placed under the tutelage of a lord in the northern part of the kingdom. I have not been at court long.”

“But where are you from?” the prince asked, gesturing around with his expressive arms.

“Brewington,” the knight responded. He waited a beat, but Prince David still looked disbelieving. A lord did not simply leave his home. “I needed to get away” the Lord Patrick added, by way of explanation.

Prince David waited another beat, but as no more information was forthcoming, he closed his mouth and paused to think for a beat.

“And you are good at jousting?” the prince asked, having decided to change the subject.

“I generally hit my target, yes” the knight answered with a proud tilt to his head. He radiated confidence, and it annoyed Prince David.

“Are _you_ good at jousting?” Lord Patrick parried. 

“No,” Prince David answered back, a petulant edge to his tone. “But I have no interest in competing—actually—I have no interest in riding a huge sentient creature for fun, so I have no idea why it even _matters_ if I’m good at jousting.” He rocked back onto his heel for a few seconds. “Let’s just get on with the thing” he said finally, gesturing in the direction of his steed.

“Okay Your Highness” the knight said, looking up at the prince through his eyelashes again and smirking. 

“Hmph” prince David thought, disgruntled. Apparently the kid was mocking him again. Well fine. Stupid Knight Perfect might as well know what he was getting into with these jousting lessons.

______

That night, Lord Patrick lay in his bed, staring at the stonework overhead and thinking about his new student. He had noticed Prince David before; of course he had. For one thing, he was the heir to the kingdom as his parents’ oldest child. He had heard about him all his life. But the prince was also… striking. “Noticeable” Patrick’s brain tried to supply. “Striking” the rest of his brain countered. 

Lord Patrick's brain buzzed away from that internal dialogue and he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the lessons. He had been impressed by the prince’s mount. The graceful way he tossed one leg over the broad back of the horse. The way his long legs looked when silhouetted against the horse’s flanks. His elegant deportment. The way the chiseled planes of his face caught the light. The stretch of his breeches across his legs and backside—Lord Patrick’s eyes flew open. His mind jumped back. “Striking” Patrick exhaled into the room.

Prince David tossed and turned on his satin sheets on his thick mattress on his elaborately carved bed in his lavish bedroom in the tower room of his aesthetic castle and could not stop thinking about how irritating a smile through eyelashes could be. He pulled a pillow over his head, but the image stayed burned on his retinas.

The next day found them back in the paddock. Lord Patrick had been explaining a technical point, to Prince David’s increasing frustration. The prince was about to throw the heavy lance to the ground when a noise drew his attention. Prince David spun around toward the entry to the training ground to see Princess Alexis riding gracefully in on her gray mare, velvet dress spread neatly around her trim figure, head held high.

“What are _you _doing here?” Prince David spluttered.

“Hello David” she called in a sing-song voice. She trotted over to Lord Patrick, smiling charmingly at him.

“Hello Lord Patrick” she greeted him, flirtatiously leaning forward to give him her hand, fingers pointed toward the ground. “I heard you were my brother’s new trainer.” Lord Patrick nodded his head as she continued. “I saw you at your investiture. I just hope you stay longer than the last trainer.” Alexis simpered at David.

“What?” Prince David mouthed at her, clearly indignant.

“David, it’s just that you know you made Sir Erlington leave in tears that one time. And Lord Arthurus said you were a hazard—” Alexis paused mid hair twirl as she was interrupted. 

“I really look forward to working with Prince David” Lord Patrick broke into her speech, smiling at her to soften his interruption—she was royalty after all—then turning and _winking_ at Prince David. 

David’s mouth fell open. And then, somewhere deep inside, he felt warm and fuzzy. Just for a moment. Just until he remembered that the kid was mocking him again.

The prince recovered himself in time to notice the Lord Patrick kissing his sister’s fingers, which were still extended toward the confident lord with the pleasant face and the sparking eyes.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Prince David snapped at his sister, who was simpering down into Lord Patrick’s eyes. 

“No, David? I thought I’d come help you with your lesson, since you need so much help and everything.” 

Lord Patrick released Princess Alexis’s hand and looked at Prince David quizzically. The prince looked flustered, and even more irritated than he had when Lord Patrick had tried to explain the technical point about grip. The knight wanted Prince David to be at ease, which seemed unlikely with the princess around, but he was hardly in a position to tell a princess what to do.

“Okay, Prince David” Patrick said loudly. He thought volume was the only thing that would be heard over the daggers the siblings were glaring at each other. It worked—the prince broke eye contact with his sister and looked around at Patrick. “I would like to see your form in the saddle.” 

A blush crept up Lord Patrick’s neck as he realized that he did really _really _want to see David’s form in the saddle, in more ways than one. But he kept his voice cool and brusque as he said “let’s do some cantering.”

Prince David looked put out, but he turned his horse’s head and trotted over to the start of the paddock. Lord Patrick looked at him and nodded, and Prince David took off around the oval. Alexis made it until he was half-way around before galloping out of the gate and away from the cloud of dust that billowed upward from the ground. 

  
Lord Patrick continued to watch Prince David’s progression around the track for two laps before gesturing for him to stop. Since he already had David cantering, he might as well take advantage of the opportunity to review his form. “For jousting” he told himself. The prince had a fairly good seat. Those long strong legs gripped the horse well. 

Prince David trotted up to Lord Patrick, a black eyebrow already arched and a small smirk threatening to tuck into his cheek. “Well?” he said. The tone was arrogant, but Lord Patrick caught a touch of insecurity underneath it. Did the prince care what he thought? That was interesting.

“Good form” Lord Patrick started, before launching into a general breakdown of his impression of the prince’s seat. When he finished, he noticed that Prince David was still looking at him with that smirk still tucked into a corner of his mouth.

“Did you just have me do that to get rid of Alexis?” he asked Lord Patrick.

Lord Patrick shrugged a little, and felt the blush creeping back up his neck and blooming over his cheeks. “I, uh, well I needed to see how you rode at-speed, and of course I regret that the princess did not wish to stay, but I think we can move on from cantering now if you wish to let the dust settle a bit. Cantering is better suited for open fields.” 

Prince David was shocked to see Lord Patrick anything but confident. It was surprisingly endearing. 

As Lord Patrick strode over to where his horse was tied, he thought he heard a whispered “thank you.”

Training continued every day. The king was very into regular schedules and practice. Prince David’s complaints had been vociferous before he began training with the new knight. As the lessons progressed, the argument had turned from a general complaint to a complaint about time of day. “I cannot face that man before 10am!” he had argued loudly with his father in the courtyard. 

The next morning, when the prince arrived at the stables, Lord Patrick said “can I talk to you about something?” 

Prince David turned his head to the side and looked apprehensive. “Okay.”

“It’s about the horses.” The prince didn’t respond to this, so Lord Patrick took a breath and continued. 

“I’m an early riser, and I exercise them in the morning. Right now, we start our lessons at 9. I think it’s a little close to their exercise time. I was wondering if it would be okay with you to move our lessons back to 10. To let the horses rest.”

Lord Patrick could see the spark in Prince David’s eyes. “Okay” the prince said, a smile fluttering tentatively across his features. 

“Okay” Lord Patrick returned, trying to bite back his smile in turn.

They stood that way, nodding at each other, for another few seconds. Finally, Lord Patrick broke the silence. “Well, since you’re here now, let’s work our lances.” 

It was an unusually hot day, and they shed layer after layer. By 10:30am they were down to their linen shirts. By 11am, Prince David noticed that Lord Patrick’s white linen shirt was beginning to stick to his broad, solid chest and thick, firm arms. 

“Do you want to stop?” the knight asked, drawing his arm across his forehead to wipe the sweat away.

“I can keep going” the prince replied, his eyes darting down to the clinging shirt. A guilty little smile crossed his lips and he looked away. He missed the grin that spread across Lord Patrick’s face. 

“Well, let’s get back to it,” the knight said. "But water first." He dismounted his horse and walked over to the water basin. He took a dipper and drank deeply. Then he scooped more water, raised the dipper, and poured it over his head. The water ran down his hair and the sides of his face, before dripping down his shirt in wet rivulets. 

“Holy fuck” David whispered to himself at the view. 

Lord Patrick reinserted the dipper into the basin. “Your Highness?” he called, holding the filled dipper out to the prince. The prince pressed his lips closed and shook his head. Lord Patrick shrugged and lifted the dipper over his own head again, letting the water wash down his front and turning his clinging shirt transparent. 

The prince sprung off his horse and marched over to the basin. “Give me that” he said, holding out his hand for the dipper. Eyes sparkling, the knight passed the dipper over. Prince David dipped the wood implement into the water and poured the dipper over his head, just below the hairline. It swept down his face and over his broad chest in a deep vee down his front. He then scooped more water and poured it down his back before handing the dipper back to the knight and striding to his horse.

“Let’s get back to it” Prince David called over his shoulder. Lord Patrick shook his head quickly, allowing his eyes to refocus, and followed the prince back to the horses in a daze. 

Half an hour later, they were both so exhausted that Lord Patrick did not even seem to be taking pleasure in yelling instructions at the prince anymore. 

“Shall we stop?” Lord Patrick asked, wiping more sweat from his brow. Prince David nodded, noticing that now the knight’s sleeve was so wet it clung all the way from his forearm to his shoulder. Every inch of fabric they wore clung to each of them. Their chests were heaving and their hair was wet and they were exhausted.

“I have an idea,” Lord Patrick said suddenly, looking at the prince expectantly. 

All the prince could do in return was nod. 

“Tomorrow, let’s take a little break from training. Go on an easy trail ride. Do you have any engagements tomorrow?” 

The prince shook his head. 

“Does that sound good to you?” Lord Patrick pressed, smiling at Prince David, who looked like he could barely stay upright. 

Prince David nodded. 

“Shall we say 8 o’clock?” That snapped the prince out of his exhausted stupor.

“EIGHT?” the prince asked indignantly.

Lord Patrick chuckled, having gotten exactly the response he had hoped for. “Let’s say 9 o’clock. If it is as hot tomorrow as it is today, we won’t want to be out during too much of the afternoon.” 

The prince just nodded again, his eyes closed, and he swayed where he stood.

  
“Whoa,” the knight said, stepping forward but hesitating before he touched the prince. “Want some support getting into the stables? You might have a bit of heatstroke.”

“What? Okay,” the prince said distantly before swaying again.

Lord Patrick stepped forward without hesitating this time, wrapping his arm around Prince David’s waist and draping the prince’s arm across his shoulders.

The prince’s eyes flew open in surprise—he had not thought it through, he had not realized that Lord Patrick would have to touch him. But then he exhaled and leaned onto his support, relaxing into the touch. 

Lord Patrick’s hand held firmly to Prince David’s waist. It was hard work to support such a tall, well-built man, but Lord Patrick was muscular himself, and he gently guided Prince David toward the stable. 

His foremost concern was getting the prince into the shade where he could recover his health, but Lord Patrick could feel Prince David’s obliques move with every step through the thin, wet fabric. He suddenly realized that he was subconsciously fantasizing about running his fingers under the shirt hem and stroking the prince’s skin. This realization did not take him by surprise.

The blush that bloomed across his sink was easily explained by the heat of the day, if necessary. A close look at the prince as Lord Patrick eased him onto a bench inside the stable told the knight that it would not be necessary to explain his blush. The prince’s eyes were closed and he was clearly exhausted, if not ill.

“I think we need to put off our trail ride until the day after tomorrow. Do you want me to go get the physician?” Lord Patrick asked, squatting in front of the prince once he got him situated. 

Prince David shook his head tiredly. Lord Patrick pursed his lips and thought for a moment, before springing back to his feet. “Stay right here” he said, needlessly. 

Lord Patrick came back with a dipper full of water. He sat down next to the price and helped him slowly drink the water. “S’ good” Prince David murmured, head lolling to the side. Lord Patrick stood but Prince David’s hand shot out and touched Lord Patrick’s hand, briefly. “Stay with me?” he asked, looking up at the knight with soft black eyes.

Lord Patrick took a small private breath. “I’ll stay with you, Your Highness” he said, in a soft voice, sitting back down on the bench.

A smile settled on the prince’s lips as he leaned over and placed his head on the knight’s shoulder. 

“Were you in the courtyard yesterday?” Prince David asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes,” Lord Patrick responded, without elaborating. 

“Oh there you are!” A voice called suddenly. With a sweep of silk, Princess Alexis was in front of them. She quirked a smile when she saw her brother’s head lying on the famous knight’s shoulder. “So sweet,” she said, swishing her skirt with one hand while she twirled her hair with the other. Lord Patrick quickly got to his feet.

“So, David. Mom is looking for you. She says you stole her favorite emerald ring again.”

Prince David’s head snapped up and his eyes snapped open. “I did _not_ steal her emerald. She probably was using it with the fortune teller again!” he said, his voice rising with each word. 

“Um, David. Twyla prefers to use rubies in her fortune telling. You know that.” 

“Ugh!” Prince David said, standing up and gesturing his arms around wildly. “I don’t know where it is. I didn’t steal her emerald!”

“Okay but David? You should probably tell _her_ that. I don’t even wear emeralds. Sapphires are much more on brand with my sand and sky color palette.”

“Your _what_?” 

“My color palette, David. Mom’s is ebony and ivory. Yours is black and white to match your skin and hair. Mine is sand and sky to match _my_ eyes and hair.”  
  
“That is not why I wear black and white! Have you seen my skin? It is _very _tan from all this _training_ I’ve been getting—”

“Mmkay David. So should I tell mom that you stole her emerald…?”

“And you do not just wear “sand and sky”! You are wearing a green dress _right now_!”

“Mmmmkay but I was talking about jewelry, David?” She gestured to her gold and sapphire circlet. “I’ll tell Mom where you are.” Princess Alexis flounced away with what appeared to have been intended to be a wink at Lord Patrick, before Prince David stomped off after her. 

Too late, Lord Patrick realized he had been standing in front of a royal princess in a see-through undershirt. On the bright side, recent events revealed that Prince David did not, in fact, have heatstroke. Any thought of propriety and Princess Alexis evaporated. Lord Patrick had a trail ride to plan.

____

  
Prince David paced the long gallery, back and forth, while his sister’s lady in waiting perched langorously in a window seat. 

“Stop pacing” she said. “You’re giving me a headache.”

  
He gave her an aggravated look. The light streaming through the ceiling-height mullioned windows behind her illuminated her hair like a halo but kept her face—and expression—in shadow.

“I haven’t seen you lately,” she said after another minute.

The prince paced back over to where she sat. He paused, but his pose was full of tension and arrested movement. She could read the stress in his angles.

“I’ve had… training” he threw out with a jerky arm movement.

“Ah, with everyone’s favorite shiny new knight.”

“What?! How does everybody seem to think he’s famous? I didn’t even know who he was before he started ordering me around on a horse.”

“He’s very popular, Lord Patrick” she drawled, enunciating the hard consonants in the name. “Knighted on his 21st birthday? Handsome? Never seen at court before he started knighthood training? Mysterious?”

“Okay, he’s not mysterious, he’s just bossy. And sure, he might have a very pleasing face and, and face, but so what.”

“A pleasing face and face?” Lady Stevie mocked. 

His eyes danced a bit at being caught out. “And body. He might look good wet,” David admitted biting down on his lips to keep back his smile.

Prince David was standing close enough to Lady Stevie now that, despite the backlighting, he could see her eyebrows go up at that.

“_Re_ally?” she said. 

“He might have poured water over his head yesterday. It’s nothing,” the prince deflected. 

“Okay” Lady Stevie said, pretending to take that at face value. “I should really let some of the other ladies know. They’ve been getting jazzed up about dancing with him at the ball next month. Maybe they just need to go down and watch a little training.”

“First of all, no one is coming to watch the training. Second of all, I don’t care how many ladies he dances with.” Prince David crossed his arms.

“Did I say you did?”

Prince David pressed his folded arms into his middle and rocked on his heels. “So, what ladies? Has he… has he said… is there one in particular that he’s courting with, or whatever?”

“If you would come down to dinner instead of taking your dinner in your room every night, maybe you would see.”

“Oh my god” Prince David said. “So there is one, um, lady.”

Stevie unfolded herself from her window seat. “I will see you at seven Your Highness.” With that, she swept from the room, her loose gown flowing behind her and her chestnut hair glowing in the light from the wall sconces. 

The prince was left alone with his thoughts and his mounting aggravation. He clutched his arms closer to his body and huffed. He considered pacing, but instead stepped over to the window seat and curled up, staring through the latticework at the garden beyond. 

The garden was not deserted. He saw a man and a woman walking at a distance. The man, who was in blue cloth, seemed to be talking about something passionately, while the woman in green clutched at his elbow and tossed her hair back. 

As the couple moved closer, David realized that the man was Lord Patrick. That meant the woman must be the one to whom Lady Stevie had just referred. He peered closer, but the woman’s face was turned from him. She was certainly familiar. The lady turned her head to shake her hair back and he caught a glimpse of her profile. Alexis.

_Alexis._ Of course. Pretty, confident, flirtatious Alexis. Who had come to training. Who had found excuses to come find him when he was with the knight. He had found out that the emerald ring had just been a ruse, and now he knew why she had invented the ruse. To talk to Lord Patrick.

He thought it through, as he watched her tip back her head and laugh, then brush her hand on his arm. As a princess, Alexis had many opportunities to marry into other kingdoms. However, after having some harried experiences tutoring in other kingdoms when she was younger, Prince David suspected that their parents would prefer she stay closer to home. 

Alexis was imminently eligible. As for Lord Patrick, he was handsome, brave, steady, chivalrous, and whatever other criteria his parents had invented that year for the knighthood. He certainly sat his horse _very _well. He was of nobility. The king and queen would likely approve the match. After all, they knighted him on the day of his 21st birthday, which was unheard of. 

Prince David watched the figures as they turned into the tall hedgerows and disappeared from view. Heaving a deep sigh, he unfolded himself from the windowseat and walked down the gallery in the direction of the east wing, where his turret was located. If he was going to show his face for dinner, he might as well start dressing.

As he climbed the stairs, his gait became slower and slower. Why was this bothering him so much? That stupid kid knight, who cared who he liked? Well, he reflected, now that he knew the stupid knight liked Alexis, there was no point in going down to dinner. He opened his door and prepared for another night of room service.

____

“Good morning Your Highness” Lord Patrick said in his chipper voice at _9am_. He was tying down the fastenings on the saddlebags on his horse. The prince’s horse already stood ready. 

“Is it?” Lord Patrick asked, walking over to his horse and running his hand over its muzzle. “I assume you already gave Freesia his carrot?” he grumbled at Lord Patrick.

  
“Saving it for you.” He handed it over to Prince David with a small smile. “You okay?”

“Early” Prince David deflected. He did _not _want to explain that he was suffering from an unrequited crush. He was twenty-five years old, not fifteen. Moving on. The kid was just a trainer. Who looked really good in wet clothes. _Really _good. And maybe a little bit nice. With a heart-stopping smile. Ugh. Moving on.

Prince David started the ride in front, with Lord Patrick shouting directions to him from time to time. They made their way through the landscaped grounds around the house and into less cultivated fields. The day was cooler than the previous days had been, and there was just enough cloud cover to protect them from the sun's glare. The morning was beautiful. They each really appreciated the view.

Prince David did not, however, appreciate having to lead a trail ride that he had not planned. Getting sick of Lord Patrick shouting directions at him, the prince finally turned around and his saddle and shouted "you lead then!" 

"Very well, Your Highness" Lord Patrick trotted around him with a smirk. "But if anyone sees me riding in front of the prince, I'm going to have to tell them it was an order."

"I bet you hate to be ordered around," Prince David said, arching a magnificent eyebrow.

"I bet you love it" the prince thought he heard Lord Patrick say before the knight cantered across the field. 

"Holy fuck." 

Lord Patrick led them into a forest trail. "Um, I don't really do woods" Prince David called to Lord Patrick, who was knocking an errant branch down to clear the way for the prince.

"Really? That is shocking news" Lord Patrick responded. "Fortunately, I can promise a wildflower covered meadow, and some cheese and wine when we get there."

"Will you trot around on horseback for me while I eat?" Prince David asked, smirking.

"Do you want me to?" Lord Patrick countered, pausing and looking up at Prince David through his eyelashes.

"No," Prince David countered quickly and a touch too loudly. "I just thought it would complete the poetic image."

"Ah," Lord Patrick said, biting down on his lower lip. He looked like he was going to say something more, but instead just turned around in his seat and continued forward down the path. He turned around again a few moments later and noticed that the prince had barely moved. "Better come quick before I eat all the cheese!" he called back to him.

That snapped Prince David out of his trance, and he trotted his horse forward before slowing him to a walk as he got within distance of Lord Patrick again.

They walked on single file for another ten minutes, before Lord Patrick paused and moved aside.

"What?" Prince David said, but then he saw. Lord Patrick had been standing at the entrance of the meadow. 

"Oh wow." Prince David nudged his horse forward into the clearing. It was beautiful, covered in wildflowers like Lord Patrick had said, and almost perfectly circular. A sentinel of trees stood guard against the darkness of the forest. "How did you find this place?"

"Oh, I've been doing some riding out in my free time. Exploring the area. I, uh, I thought you might like it." Lord Patrick looked up bashfully through his lashes again. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as a blush curled across his skin.

Prince David gave him a small smile, soft at the edges. “I do" Prince David breathed. 

"Good." Lord Patrick smiled back at him and the seconds stretched to five before Lord Patrick broke eye contact and swung out of his saddle. 

"This cheese isn't going to last forever" he called, lightening his tone. He opened his horse's saddlebags and pulled out a tapestry, which he spread on the ground. Next he removed a flask of wine and what appeared to be a selection of cheeses and meats.

"These are my favorites. How did you know these were my favorites?” Prince David asked, gazing delightedly at the cheeses as Lord Patrick spread them across the tapestry. 

"I asked Alexis."

"You asked Alexis?" 

"Yeah, I asked her to take a walk with me yesterday so I could ask her about your favorites." 

"You were talking about my favorite cheese and wine?" Prince David asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, why?" Lord Patrick finished opening the wine and set it on the tapestry, supported by the bundle of meats.

"Um. What-- what else did you talk about?" Prince David tried to sound offhand, but he could not keep the note of curiosity from creeping in.

"Not much. Your favorite cheeses and wine. She talked about the ball some. Actually she tried to talk about the ball a lot. What she would be wearing, what I would be wearing. Which dances we should have." Lord Patrick glanced up at Prince David's pained face. "But anyway. Here, have some cheese." He put some in front of Prince David on a handkerchief. Prince David did not seem to notice.

"Are you taking Alexis to the ball?" 

Lord Patrick looked startled, then looked down at the cheese and knife in his hand.

"I've got my eye on someone else." Lord Patrick paid careful attention to the cheese he was cutting.

"Okay?" Prince David replied.

"So, hey, what do you think about heading a little deeper into the woods after we eat?" Lord Patrick asked, quickly changing the subject. "There's a great little place I found. I think you'll really like it."

"Mmhmm" Prince David said, distracted. He began to carefully eat the cheeses that Lord Patrick was stacking in front of him. 

After a few minutes of silence, Lord Patrick picked up the flask of wine and offered it to Prince David, who took a swig and offered it back to Lord Patrick.

"No, thank you. I forgot the cups." 

Prince David extended it to him again, more emphatically. 

"Are you sure?" Lord Patrick asked hesitantly.

"Fortunately, you look like you have a clean mouth" Prince David said.

Smiling, Lord Patrick took the flask and brought it to his lips. The mouth of the flask was still wet from Prince David’s mouth. The wine tasted better than any wine he had ever had. “I’m sorry, a clean mouth?” Lord Patrick lowered the flask to the tapestry, grasping the neck loosely in his fingers, amused.

“Some people have nice clean mouths, and some people have dirty mouths.” 

Lord Patrick smirked again, and waited.

When Prince David reached for the bottle, Lord Patrick kept it where it was. "No, you have a dirty mouth" he responded. 

Prince David looked shocked. Lord Patrick chuckled, took another swig, and lowered it again. Prince David looked increasingly confounded. 

"I'm kidding," Lord Patrick said, handing the bottle back over as he laughed gently. "You have a very nice mouth. Clean mouth!" he hastily corrected himself. 

There were a lot of expressions warring on Prince David's face, but surprise and delight were definitely in the mix, next to disbelief and a refusal to hope.

A bird called loudly, and suddenly they each looked up. The light cloud cover from earlier in the day had thickened into a dark blanket over their heads and the temperature had dropped. Lord Patrick leapt into action, grabbing the unopened meat packet and what was left of the cheese and stuffing it into the saddlebag. 

Prince David got to his feet and corked the wine flask, while Lord Patrick quickly grabbed the tapestry and bundled that up too, stuffing it back into the other saddlebag. 

"Let's go!" he called to Prince David, mounting his horse and reaching for the flask of wine. Lord Patrick draped it over one shoulder as Prince David mounted Freesia. "Follow me!" Lord Patrick called, heading for the clearing entrance just as tiny stinging drops of rain began to prick at their skin. 

Lord Patrick moved them quickly up a path that led them further into the forest, higher into the hills. The horses carefully picked their steps, as the rain pelted down, faster and heavier every minute. Neither man talked as Lord Patrick focused on reaching their destination and Prince David focused on following Lord Patrick. Finally, after fifteen minutes, Prince David saw a shape emerge from the forest. A small shape and a smaller shape. Made of stone.

In front of him, Lord Patrick dismounted, and Prince David followed suit. Lord Patrick gestured Prince David toward the larger building, while he took the reins of the two horses and made his way through the downpour to the smaller building. Under normal circumstances, Prince David would not have willingly entered what appeared to be an abandoned building in the middle of the forest. He had read one too many fairytales to trust small picturesque cottages. Under the present circumstances, he ran for the door.

Trying the latch, he found that the door was unlocked, and he entered. He left the door open for light as his eyes adjusted, and to make sure no one was going to jump out at him. Just as he had worked himself into a panic about whether anyone or anything was lurking in the cottage, Lord Patrick strode through the door, shaking the rain out of his hair and stomping his boots. His arms were full.

Relief flooded through Prince David. He felt much better with Lord Patrick there. 

"What is this place?"

"It's an old cottage. It’s abandoned." Lord Patrick walked over to a small table and put his bundles down before closing the door and walking over to Prince David. "Are you okay?" he asked the prince. 

"I'm drenched. And I'm in a cottage in the middle of the woods. Which doesn't appear to have a light or heat source" the prince responded. As he said it, a chill shuddered through his body. Lord Patrick noticed.

"Right. First things first. We need to warm up" Lord Patrick said, looking around. They were dripping puddles onto the floor, and the cottage was basically devoid of implements. There was a small table, a bucket, and what appeared to be a mattress in one corner. There was no wood for the fireplace, and any wood on the ground outside would be soaked, in addition to requiring a sojourn through the deluge to access it.

Lord Patrick looked around, running his hand through the loose curls on top of his head. "I don't know what to do" he finally admitted, his voice sounding strangely lost. "There's nothing here, and we don't have anything to change into. There's the tapestry, but it's not absorbent. It wouldn't help much.” He looked frustrated at not being able to solve this. “I guess we just have to wait it out, and be wet."

"Okay, no," Prince David said, teeth chattering. "I can at least do something about being wet while I am inside the building. You can stand there in your wet clothes and catch a fever if you want to. I am taking these clothes off."

Lord Patrick's eyes grew wide. He quickly glanced away, then at David, then turned around completely to stare out the tiny window. Prince David had been right, it wasn't much of a light source. Behind Lord Patrick, Prince David began to try to remove layers. 

After several long minutes of struggle, Prince David finally heaved a deep exhalation of frustration. 

“Everything okay?” Lord Patrick asked, still staring out the window, his body tensed like a bow. 

“I need some help! Everything is so wet, and the clasps are slipping, and my fingers are so cold and stiff—”

Lord Patrick clenched his jaw, once, then slowly turned around and deliberately walked over to Prince David. To undress him. He took a deep breath. 

“Okay Your Highness, let me try” Lord Patrick said, hoping that his heartbeat could not be heard over the pounding of the rain, but thinking that it probably could.

Prince David heaved a huge sigh and surrendered himself to Lord Patrick’s fingers.

Lord Patrick worked deftly to remove the fastenings and ties of Prince David’s overclothes. He removed the outer layer and draped it over the cottage's one chair, before walking determinedly back to Prince David. The prince was just standing there, hands by his sides, waiting for Lord Patrick to come back and undress him. Prince David forced back his smile as fiercely as he could at the thought. And then he caught his breath, as Lord Patrick stepped close, and his eyes swept consideringly over Prince David.

Lord Patrick’s fingers hovered, suspended. Everything else the prince was wearing was tight and stuck to his skin. 

“Pants. My hands are too stiff,” the prince said, breathing again, and his mouth curling around to the side in a smirk as he saw the knight’s hesitation.   
  


“Okay, David,” Lord Patrick said, reaching out his hands and placing them on the prince’s hips, just above the tie of his pants. Lord Patrick looked up into the prince’s eyes for confirmation. Prince David, eyes blown black and breathing once again arrested, nodded. Slowly, Lord Patrick untied the cord. 

“I think you can handle it from here" the knight said, stepping away from Prince David, breathing heavily, staring at the cord. Prince David nodded. He hooked his fingers into his pants and slowly lowered them down his thighs. Lord Patrick followed the cord with his eyes all the way to the ground. Slowly, as if in a daze, Lord Patrick looked back up at David's bare legs, his damp white tunic which fell to midthigh, and the tunic tie at the prince's neck, which rested in the shadow of his collarbone. 

Prince David watched the journey of Lord Patrick's eyes and felt like he was being slowly charged by lightning. Prince David brought his cold stiff fingers up to the tie, but could not loosen it. Lord Patrick stepped forward, eyes wide and glassy, and slowly pulled one side of the cord, watching as the tunic fell open. Still in a daze, Lord Patrick reached his hand forward, as if to touch the black hair curling across the prince’s chest. Suddenly, he stopped, shook his head, and jerked his hand back. 

"You should probably leave the tunic on" Lord Patrick said, stepping hastily away and turning around. Prince David felt like his body was vibrating and did not answer. "Holy fuck" his brain supplied. To watch this confident, capable, sexy man fall apart in the presence of David's body made David want to rip Lord Patrick's clothes off.

As tempting as the idea was, Prince David's foremost concern was Patrick's comfort. Shivering in the wet tunic, Prince David walked shakily over to the tapestry. Picking it up, he carried it over to the knight, who was staring out the window again at the never-ceasing rain and shaking with the wet and cold. The temperature felt like it was dropping a degree a minute. 

Gently, Prince David wrapped the pliable tapestry around Lord Patrick's shoulders. Lord Patrick spun around within the fabric’s embrace. "No, Prince David-- Your Highness--  _ you  _ need it." 

"You're shaking" Prince David said, gently.

"So are you!" Lord Patrick retorted, clutching the tapestry despite his words. Prince David looked around the room again, at himself, and the knight, and sighed. "Okay, come here.” He took one end of the tapestry from Lord Patrick and extended it around himself. Luckily, it was a sizeable textile, and flexible, and they could almost get it around both of them if they stood close together. 

Prince David accidentally pressed himself into Lord Patrick as he tried to close the sides. 

"You're so wet!" Prince David exclaimed, springing away as his thinly clad body came in contact with Lord Patrick's saturated clothes. "Okay, you need to take that off" the prince said, gesturing at Lord Patrick's outer garments. 

Lord Patrick took a deep breath. Stripping in front of the prince was certainly not in keeping with royal protocol. Lord Patrick looked searchingly into Prince David's eyes, looking for something he needed, then nodded. He handed the other corner of the tapestry to Prince David and stepped out. Still making eye contact with Prince David, his fingers fumbled with the fastenings of his clothes, pulling one item off after the other. Turning away as he pulled off his pants, he removed them as well as Prince David's pants from the floor and draped all the garments across the chair. Then he stood, hands braced on the table, his back to Prince David. 

"Lord Patrick?" Prince David called. He saw the knight take a deep breath, before standing up and slowly turning around. Letting his eyes quickly drink in the barely clad knight, Prince David thought he knew why Lord Patrick hesitated. 

Prince David held out a corner of the tapestry. 

"I can't come over there" Lord Patrick said.

"Why not?"

"I think you know why" Lord Patrick responded.

"Come here," Prince David said, gesturing with his head for emphasis. 

Lord Patrick took a huge breath, squared his shoulders, and strode across the floor to where Prince David stood. 

With one last glance at Prince David’s eyes for confirmation, Lord Patrick stepped into the fold of the tapestry. Prince David carefully extended the cloth around the knight, drawing them closer so that their damp tunics whispered against each other. Lord Patrick carefully angled himself so that his erection did not press into the prince. 

The silence stretched between them, as they held their bodies taught, the air around them charged. 

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Lord Patrick finally managed. His jaw was clenched and the cords of his neck stood out in relief, highlighting his tension. 

“Mmmm” is all Prince David could trust himself with by way of response. Prince David could not believe he was standing this close to careful, tidy, smart-mouthed Lord Patrick. He wanted to reach out, caress his broad shoulders through the thin cloth, capture that full bottom lip with his lips, press his thigh between Lord Patrick’s and feel Lord Patrick’s cock pressed against his own…

Prince David squeezed his eyes closed and tilted his head back, willing himself not to do or say anything to scare this lovely man he wanted more than he had ever wanted anyone in his whole life.

With his eyes closed, Prince David could not see the blush that rose up out of the neck of Lord Patrick’s tunic, stained that thick neck red, and suffused his cheeks all the way to his hairline. 

Lord Patrick turned his head to look at Prince David. He noted that the prince’s eyes were pressed close and his head tilted back, his body angled away from Lord Patrick, and the knight was mortified. He had to get out of there, get away; or at least get physically away from the prince because the rain was falling even harder than before and outside was not a good option. Although he thought he would gladly trudge through worse to save himself this shame and save the prince this discomfort, he would not inflict this weather on his horse.

Reaching for a corner of the tapestry, Lord Patrick distractedly said “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” and jerked himself free of the warm cocoon. He had almost stumbled free, when he felt a large hand grasp his own.

“No! Don’t...don’t go” Prince David finished softly, balancing the tapestry over one of his shoulders so that he could grip Lord Patrick’s sturdy hand in his own. 

Slowly, Lord Patrick turned and looked Prince David in the eyes. The prince’s usual wary filter was gone, and Lord Patrick saw entreaty, and shyness, and… desire?” Lord Patrick hesitated, drinking in those eyes. Then, slowly, Prince David reeled him back in. 

Prince David gently tugged Lord Patrick toward him until they were so close that their clasped hands were caught between their sides. Lord Patrick felt the blood rushing in his brain and wondered if Prince David could feel his galloping heart through the sliver of air that separated them. For the second time that hour, he thought the answer was probably yes. But his brain pounded with questions. Had the desire he thought he saw been something else? Was the prince just being kind and trying to ensure his trainer did not catch a fever? 

Slowly, he inched his head around to look at Prince David. As he turned, he accidentally brushed his erection against the prince’s leg right as his eyes locked with the prince’s. Anxiety flooded Lord Patrick's body in the second of contact, but the prince’s eyes flashed from hesitant to burning in that moment, and Lord Patrick felt his own pupils blow wide at the sight.

Prince David, who had been valiantly telling himself to not jump to any conclusions, felt like he had been electrocuted when Patrick's thick cock brushed against his leg. He took in Lord Patrick’s dilated pupils, and he wanted to devour his smug little trainer.

Prince David released their clasped hands, and wrapped his arms around Lord Patrick’s thick waist. A low moan escaped Prince David as he pressed their bodies together. 

“Oh” Lord Patrick mouthed, as he felt Prince David’s own erection brush against his. Encouraged and euphoric, Lord Patrick adjusted quickly, squaring his body to the prince’s, chasing that beautiful friction.

Prince David moaned again, eyes closed and lips parted. Lord Patrick surged up to kiss him, hard and with passion. Lord Patrick wrapped his free arm around Prince David’s waist and bunched David's tunic fabric together in his hand, holding tight as he rocked his hips forward. 

Lord Patrick had never felt anything like this, never done anything that felt remotely as “right” as this, and he surrendered to his desires. He pulled back to look at the prince’s beautiful face, but the prince chased the knight’s lips and enveloped them with his own. Prince David skimmed his hands up Lord Patrick’s sides, caressed over his shoulders, and then captured the Lord Patrick’s head in both of his hands, kissing him deeply. 

Lost in the sensation, Lord Patrick released the tunic and stretched his hand down to grab Prince David’s ass, squeezing and pulling him closer. The prince bit down on Lord Patrick’s bottom lip, then licked it. “Mmmmm” Lord Patrick managed, before Prince David captured his mouth again. 

They broke free to breathe, and suddenly Lord Patrick remembered that this was not only the man he cared about but also the prince. “Is this okay?” he asked suddenly, releasing Prince David’s ass, taking a small step backward, and looking into the prince’s eyes.

“Mmmhmmm, this is very okay” the prince replied, leaning back into Lord Patrick’s lips, pressing gently against them, learning their curves. The simple sweetness of the kiss sent tingles down Lord Patrick’s spine. Prince David pulled back, and Lord Patrick leaned forward and tried a gentle kiss himself. The prince’s lips were so beautifully and interestingly shaped-- he wondered if he could press his lips against the full length of them. 

As Lord Patrick pulled away from his experimental kiss, he noticed Prince David’s eyes, looking at him with so much gentleness. 

“You want this?” Prince David asked, as Lord Patrick leaned in again and ran his tongue along Prince David’s bottom lip, then traced the top, before pressing another sweet kiss to the prince’s mouth.

“Yes,” the knight said simply, standing still, with his head gently cradled in Prince David’s hands. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Really?” Prince David could not keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lord Patrick took a deep breath. “Basically since I met you, actually.” Lord Patrick steeled himself to be honest. “I, uh, actually, you’re the first man I’ve ever…” Lord Patrick trailed off. Prince David released his hands, and Lord Patrick looked down. 

“Okay?” Prince David said, clearly grappling with whatever the knight was about to say.

“I used to be betrothed, back in Brewington--” 

“Oh” Prince David interjected, his face contorting.

“Yeah, so I left. Because it never felt right, and I needed to try to do something, or prove myself to myself, or distance myself from the guilt I felt because I was letting everyone down--”

Prince David wrapped his arms around Lord Patrick’s shoulders, grounding him.

“So, I left, and I trained to be a knight, here. And it was going well, and then one day I saw you. And you just seemed like… my destiny... or something. So I asked the king if I could train you.”

Shock suffused Prince David's features, chased by a tender smile as the Lord Patrick continued.

“I didn’t know what it was I was feeling, until I met you. And then I resisted it because it was too impossible. You’re the prince. It would be a bad idea to fall for you.” The knight looked up. “But once I met you, it turned out to be too late.”

‘That may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” the prince responded, with tears shining in the corner of his eyes. “And if we’re truth-telling, I really like you too.”

“Yeah?” Lord Patrick responded.

“Well I think that’s obvious,” the prince retorted, gesturing at their intertwined bodies. More softly, he continued, “yeah. I actually…” the prince took a deep breath “I actually like you more than anyone I’ve ever known,” he finished quickly, ducking his head. 

Lord Patrick lifted his left hand to Prince David’s chin and tilted it up. Gently, he kissed him. 

As their lips broke apart the prince found himself spilling the truth. “I actually couldn’t sleep.” The knight smiled as he leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah me neither.”

“I was jealous when I saw you with Alexis--” the prince was cut off with another kiss.

“I told you I had to ride every day but I really didn’t--” the next kiss was deeper.

“I dreamed about running my hands over your slippery wet chest, that hot day--” Lord Patrick wound his fingers in Prince David’s hair and pulled him into the next kiss. “Me too” Lord Patrick whispered before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

“Really?” Prince David said as their lips broke apart before pressing them passionately together again.

“Really,” Lord Patrick responded, dropping the tapestry and moving his aching arm down to wrap around Prince David’s waist.

“I looked at your ass everyday and fantasized about grabbing it” Lord Patrick said, moving his hand lower and squeezing it as he pressed another bruising kiss against Prince David’s lips.

“I wanted to run my hands up and down your muscular thighs.” Lord Patrick used his leverage on Prince David’s ass to grind their erections together. 

‘Fuck, Patrick!” Prince David said. Lord Patrick smiled. 

“I imagined tasting you” Lord Patrick said, more confidently than he ever would have imagined he could. Prince David’s eyes grew wide.

“Off” Prince David said heatedly, dropping his hands to the hem of Lord Patrick’s tunic and tugging upward. Lord Patrick lifted his arms over his head, allowing the prince to bare him. 

Prince David paused a moment in his haste in order to drink in Lord Patrick’s body. “Holy fuck” he whispered, dragging his eyes up the knight’s toned legs to his impressive cock. “Wow” he breathed, staring openly at it. “That’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” After several moments, he dragged his eyes upward over the knight’s sturdy torso, his shiny white skin, and his muscular arms. Finally, his eyes met Lord Patrick’s eyes, and both sets were burning with heat. 

Lord Patrick stepped forward and took the hem of Prince David’s tunic in his fingers, raising it one inch at a time, raking his eyes over each span of soft skin and muscular planes that he exposed. Prince David threw his head back, squeezed his eyes shut, and bit down on his lips. His body vibrated under the scrutiny. Lord Patrick inched the cloth past the tops of Prince David’s thighs, and let it brush over Prince David’s erection as he pulled it higher. A high-pitched sound escaped the prince, who suddenly fastened his eyes on Lord Patrick with fiery intent. 

Lord Patrick did not hasten, but continued to slowly lift the tunic and drink in the prince’s beautiful hips, pecs, chest hair, arms, and then Lord Patrick was tugging the garment over the prince’s head and dropping it to the ground, forgotten. 

They stood naked in the cabin, rain still pounding outside, and reached hungrily for each other’s bodies. 

“You are so beautiful” Lord Patrick breathed. 

“You have such a pretty mouth,” Prince David responded, pulling their bodies flush with one arm while lifting his other arm and pressing his thumb into Lord Patrick’s mouth. Lord Patrick closed his eyes and moaned around it, before slowly sucking, the pad flush against his tongue. 

“Can I touch you?” the prince asked, breathlessly. “Mmmmhmmm” Lord Patrick moaned again.

Prince David removed his arm from around Lord Patrick’s waist and wrapped his hand around both of their cocks. Lord Patrick’s jumped eagerly against Prince David’s hand. Prince David brought his own hand up to his mouth and licked before lowering it and grasping both of their cocks again. He slowly moved his hand up the shafts and down again, then increased his speed to match Lord Patrick’s pace against Prince David’s thumb. 

Lord Patrick clutched desperately at Prince David’s hair with one hand and wrapped the other around Prince David’s back, raking his nails as he scrambled for purchase. 

Prince David moaned again. “I want to feel you. I want to feel you on me” the prince panted. Lord Patrick released Prince David’s thumb and looked around. “Mattress.” They separated themselves long enough to pick up the tapestry, turn the damp side down, and lay it across the mattress. Prince David knew it would scratch his skin, but he welcomed it. It would be a beautiful reminder if they ever got out of this beautiful storm.

Before Prince David laid down, he asked “are you okay? Is this okay?” Lord Patrick nodded, unable to form words as his eyes drank in Prince David’s naked form again. “I’ve never done anything like this. But I want to try. With you, David.” 

Lord Patrick’s eyes went wide. “Your Highness-- I meant “Your Highness”.” 

Prince David stepped toward him and kissed him soundly. “David.” 

Lord Patrick smiled gently. “David.” 

Prince David laid down on the tapestry. “Come here, Patrick” he said, softly. 

The knight looked at David laid out so beautifully for him, and all his nerves melted away. He strode over to the prince and gently laid down on top of him, bracing his arms against the mattress to keep some of his weight off of the prince. "It's Lord Patrick" the knight said, his smug confidence returning. 

David reached his arm around Patrick’s back and pressed down firmly. “Okay LORD Patrick, I want to feel all of you” he whispered. That was all the inspiration that Patrick needed to be fully hard again. He lined his aching cock up with David’s. Patrick reached his palm out to David’s mouth. “Lick.” Patrick watched eagerly as David’s tongue swirled lasciviously around his palm. Once it was wet, Patrick lowered it and wrapped it around David’s cock. He wanted to grind them both to release, but first he wanted to feel David’s heavy length in his hand. David’s cock felt like rippling velvet. Patrick groaned.

Patrick wrapped his palm around the head of David’s cock and twisted his palm around and down, letting the precum and saliva act together to slicken David. Then he did the same to his own cock, before wrapping his hand around each of them and slowly pulling. David, who had been watching this, tossed his head back on the pillow and moaned. “That’s so good, Patrick. Don’t stop. Oh my god. Don’t stop. Holy fuck.” Patrick lay forward, keeping their dicks lined up, and braced his arms on either side of David. Slowly, he began moving backward and forward, giving them both the friction that they so desperately wanted. To moans of “so good, don’t stop, oh my god Patrick, yes, I want you so much, don’t stop,” Patrick picked up the pace. Patrick reached down and used the leaking precum to slick them up again before moving faster and faster, kissing and biting at David’s neck as the pressure built. David’s moans turned into cries and Patrick started panting “I”m gonna come, I’m gonna--” against David’s neck. Finally, Patrick felt his release shoot across their chests, and he bit down on David’s shoulder. David surged forward with a cry, and fell back, mixing his come with Patrick’s. 

David’s arms came up to wrap around Patrick, and Patrick collapsed against David. Their breath slowed and Patrick cuddled his head against David’s neck. “You were so good, Patrick” David whispered into Patrick's auburn curls. 

“This has been the best day of my life” Patrick responded, lazily kissing under David’s ear. David chuckled, moved by Patrick’s honesty, and still drunk on the possibility that someone like Patrick would want to be with him at all. 

“Me too,” he whispered. "Yeah?" Patrick asked shyly. "Yeah,' David responded, kissing the top of Patrick's head. Patrick smiled happily against David’s neck.

They dozed briefly, before Patrick became increasingly chilled. He tried to sit up quietly and allow David to rest, but he found that they were stuck together. David woke up abruptly to tugging at his chest hair. “Oh my god!” he said, looking down horrified at where they were connected. 

Slowly, inch by inch, Patrick peeled himself off of David. “I’m going to find something to clean us up.” Patrick set about cleaning up the come, and David stared at the ceiling of the little cabin. 

Now that they were past the feverish excitement of sex, would Patrick regret what they did? Was it too soon? Had he pushed him? Was this okay? What if he wouldn’t want him now that they’d done that? What if he didn’t want to be seen with David when they got back to the castle? Patrick was the perfect knight and David was the eccentric prince. Patrick’s reputation was probably better off without him. Oh god, what if this was it and Patrick never wanted to speak to him again? 

Patrick came over with a bucket full of rain water and his damp tunic. “Okay David, let’s get you cleaned up” Patrick said, dipping the tunic in the rain water and moving it toward David’s chest. 

“Oh, I can do that” David said brusquely, taking the cloth out of Patrick’s hands. 

“Please, I’d like to” Patrick said softly, brushing David’s hair back at the temples. David’s spiraling thoughts paused while he drank in the tenderness in Patrick’s eyes. While their eyes were linked, Patrick read the maelstrom in David’s. 

“Do you mind?” Patrick asked, reaching out his hand for the cloth.

“You don’t have to” David said, letting his guard down a fraction of an inch but retaining the cloth. 

“I-- okay.” Patrick sat back on his heels, thinking. David watched the thoughts flit across Patrick's face for long moments. Then Patrick resolutely began to speak. “I understand if this meant more to me than it did to you. And I’m sorry if I did anything wrong.” 

David reached out instinctively and placed a hand on Patrick’s knee. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Patrick took a deep breath. “Okay?”

“But we don’t have to do this, or whatever, when we get back. We can leave it in the cabin. Pretend like it never happened.”   
  
“I don’t want to pretend like it never happened!” 

“Oh...,” David replied. 

“I want to be with you, but I won’t push you. If you want to have a trainer/ trainee relationship, I can do that. We can focus on that. I won’t do anything to smother you, David. I can just be your trainer, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want you to just be my trainer,” David said, blushing. “I’ve wanted to be with you for weeks, since I met you. Since the moment I met you and saw your stupid wonderful face and saw your stupid, wonderful smirk--” Patrick cut David off with a relieved kiss.

“Then why don’t we?” Patrick said with a smile, as he leaned back onto his heels. He took the cloth from David and began cleaning his chest. 

“Okay,” David said, with his smile twisted all the way around to the side.

“Okay,” Patrick said in reply, the smile threatening to break open on his face. He looked down at David’s chest, where he had been absentmindedly scrubbing and dipping and scrubbing and dipping. “You are wet now.”

“That’s a lot of scrubbing,” David responded with a smirk. 

Patrick cleaned himself up, then gestured over to the meat that he had thought to pull out of the saddlebag. “Shall we eat?” he asked.

“I think that’s a really good idea,” David said with a smile. “But since we don’t have any dry clothes, we’re going to have to stay close. For warmth.”

“We’ll do what we have to do,” Patrick responded, leaning in for a kiss.

“Oh, and I was wondering one thing,” Patrick said, staring shyly down at his hands.

“Yes?”

“Would you go to the ball with me?” Patrick asked, smiling shyly down at the prince.

“I’d like that.” David smiled back at Patrick, before his eyes took on a mischievous glint. “But I get final say over all wardrobe, including accessories.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and David have a joust and a ball to attend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had not planned on writing any more, but since there was some interest in hearing further about exploits set during a thoroughly unresearched historical period, accented with contemporary dialogue, I jotted this off today. 
> 
> Fare thee well for now.
> 
> *Update* I've lightly edited the first two chapters, since I didn't really do that before, and I am attempting to write a third chapter. Stay tuned. Or not. You do you.

**Chapter 2: Falling Together With You**

The cottage was dark and musty, dirty and bare, but David loved the view. “Would you go to the ball with me?” Patrick asked, smiling down at the prince.

“I’d like that.” David smiled back at Patrick, before his eyes took on a mischievous glint. “But I get final say over all wardrobe, including accessories.” 

Patrick laughed, a rich chuckle. He moved so that he was sitting on the tapestry, against the curve of David’s body. “Are you saying you want to dress me, Your Highness?” he asked coyly.

“Not as much as I want to undress you,” David replied, reaching out and running his hand lightly up Patrick’s bare thigh. 

“Too late,” Patrick choked out, surprised at how much he responded to that simple touch.

“Are you okay, Sir Famous Knight?” David asked in a faux innocent voice, running his fingers gently along the soft skin at Patrick’s hip bone and delighting in watching the confident man fall apart under his fingers. 

Patrick leaned back against David, eyes closed, taking deep breaths through his nose and letting them out through his mouth. 

When it looked like Patrick had almost steadied himself, David walked his fingers down the crease at Patrick’s groin, down to his thick white thighs. Slowly, David traced patterns in the skin of Patrick’s inner thighs with his fingers as his eyes watched Patrick fall apart at the seams again. 

“I think you like this, Patrick.” 

Patrick, eyes and lips pressed closed, nodded. 

“Do you know what I want to do?” David whispered, bracing himself on one arm and leaning closer to Patrick.

Patrick shook his head, panting softly.

David extended his fingers and lightly brushed them against Patrick’s slowly hardening cock. “I want to dress you for the ball” he whispered in Patrick’s ear. 

A grin spread across Patrick’s face. Reaching down, he guided David’s hand to Patrick’s cock and curled David’s fingers around the shaft. Patrick turned his face the few inches to David’s and, brushing his lips against the David’s, softly whispered “No.”

David’s coy demeanour broke down at that simple word, and David surged against Patrick, bruisingly pressing their lips together and trying to guide their bodies to lie on the bed. 

Patrick raised a hand and placed it against David’s chest, holding him back with gentle force. Patrick breathed hard but his voice came out deep and strong. “Do you want me, David?” he asked.

David stared at him wide-eyed. Patrick could see the delight and surprise in David’s eyes, but he was not getting an answer. Patrick brushed his thumb, lightly, across the hairs on David’s chest. “I didn’t hear an answer.” 

David nodded eagerly, pressing his lips together.

“Good,” Patrick responded evenly. “Now I want you to sit here, and think about what you’ve done.” Patrick extricated himself from David and stood. Naked and erect, he strolled across the floor, not once looking back at where David sat, shocked and turned-on and staring greedily. 

Patrick heard David fall back against the mattress, and Patrick smiled to himself as he gathered the food they had left over from the picnic. Turning around, he smirked at David’s prostrate form. David was also fully erect again, and Patrick could feel himself going from hard to uncomfortably hard at the sight of David spread out like an Adonis.

David turned his head to stare at Patrick, who was smugly raking his eyes down David’s body. Patrick enjoyed being watched by David. This felt easy and right and so, so good. 

David sat up as Patrick walked back across the floor. Patrick stopped right in front of the mattress, food held in his left hand, his hard cock inches from David’s face. “Are you going to tell me what to wear?” Patrick asked, his voice low and controlled.

David could not take his eyes off Patrick’s beautiful cock. His tongue swept out of his mouth and licked his lips. Patrick reached down with his right hand and threaded his fingers through David’s hair. Suddenly he tugged so that David’s head looked up at Patrick. “I didn’t hear you.”

“No” David said, breathing shallowly. 

“Good boy” Patrick responded, loosening his hold of David. David moaned and surged forward, licking the precum at the head of Patrick’s cock. Patrick’s head fell backward and he dropped the packet of meat to the ground. Patrick wound both hands through David’s hair and held on tight.

More turned on than he had ever been in his life, David sat up straight and reached his hands around to grasp Patrick’s full, muscular ass. David leveraged his hold to pull Patrick’s cock further into his mouth. Patrick was big, bigger than anyone he had ever seen, but David worked to relax his throat and pull him all the way in. 

As David worked, Patrick twisted his fingers into David’s hair tighter and tighter, then loosened his grip, trying not to fuck David’s mouth but almost failing over and over. He let his hand drop to his side in fists, willing himself to be gentle. 

David reached up and took Patrick’s hands and placed them back on David’s head. It was all the permission Patrick needed. With a moan, he thrust over and over into the tight wet heat of David’s sexy mouth. Patrick came with a shout, muffled by the drizzle outside their hideaway. 

David helped lower Patrick’s wrecked body to the mattress as he swallowed. Patrick reached his arms around David and pulled him down to him so that David’s head was cradled against Patrick’s heart. “That was amazing” Patrick whispered. David smiled to himself, pleased. 

David reached down and wrapped a hand around his aching cock. He had massaged himself to completion many times thinking about Patrick, but he had never thought he would get to do it lying on top of Patrick.

But Patrick had other plans. Patrick, who had been so cocky just before, now looked at David with his melting molasses eyes and asked “Can I try?”

David nodded, and together they worked to find a good angle. “I’ve never done this before. How about if I--” Patrick broke off and gestured to the wall. He placed his back against it and gestured for David to get between his legs, David’s back to Patrick’s chest. 

“This position will probably work. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve worked myself from this position, thinking about you,” Patrick said, then licked his hand. David dropped his head back and moaned “Holy fuck, Patrick,” visualizing neat little buttoned up Patrick fantasizing about David in his room. Patrick wrapped his strong fingers around David’s cock. David sank back and enjoyed the slow supple pull.

After David's long satisfied moans had tapered off into comfortable contentment, they rested against each other again and listened to the drips from the trees outside.  
“I think it stopped,” Patrick said. 

“I don’t want to leave,” David replied, snuggling back into Patrick.

Patrick chuckled and rubbed his hands lightly up and down David’s defined arms, reveling in the planes of muscle.

“So how is this going to work?” Patrick asked. They both knew what he meant.

“We will walk into dinner together and tell my parents to just deal with it.”

“Okay,” Patrick said quietly. Could it be that simple? He thought for David, and for this queen and king, maybe it could be. Maybe finding each other had been the hard part. Maybe, not everything had to be hard. 

Patrick bent over and picked the packet of meat off the ground. “Sustenance?” he asked. 

“Doesn’t that look… scrumptious,” David replied dubiously.

Patrick opened the packet and pulled out a piece of smoked sausage. “Open up” he instructed. David opened his mouth and let Patrick put a piece of meat on his tongue. David closed his lips on Patrick’s fingers and swirled his tongue around them. Patrick rewarded him with a choked laugh, before freeing his fingers and getting a piece for himself. 

When they finished the food, Patrick stood up. “Well, we better be getting back before they send out a search party.” David grumbled but stood up and got ready to go. It would not be a pleasant ride home in their wet clothes over the sodden ground, but David knew Patrick was right. Practical Patrick. 

Patrick leaned over the mattress and picked up the tapestry by two corners. “What do we do with this?”

“Leave it?” David suggested, looking askance at the multiple stains. 

“We could visit later?” Patrick said, thought it came out as more of a question. 

“Okay, no, we are never coming on this long of a fucking trail ride into the woods again.”

“There’s a waterfall nearby,” Patrick teased. “We could take a picnic, enjoy the view, taste… things.” 

“Mmmk, no. I plan on enjoying the view--” David gestured at Patrick’s full body-- “many times, without going into the woods to do so. And having “tasted things” I can confidently tell you that I plan to do that again, like, immediately. Like, probably not tonight because people are going to be watching us, and when they see that we’re together--”

“By “people” do you mean Lady Stevie?” Patrick asked, smirking.

“Yes,” David conceded. “Among others. Like my sister. And--”

“So you like tasting me?” Patrick asked, smugly, as he wrapped his arms around David’s waist.

“Yes I like tasting you. You’re the most delicious fucking thing I’ve ever had. Now can we go, please?”

Patrick pressed his lips to David’s, drinking him in. “Okay David. We can go.”

Patrick broke away and finished the preparations. They were dressed and packed and about to open the door to go get the horses, when Patrick turned to David. 

“Thank you,” he said simply. 

“For what?”

“For being you,” Patrick said, looking into David’s eyes. David’s eyes and lips softened into a small, delighted smile. Patrick smiled back and opened the door, heart light, and led the way.

\------

The men made it back just in time to dress for dinner. As they moved further and further into the castle grounds proper, they took on a more formal configuration, changing from riding side-by-side to Prince David riding in front with Lord Patrick behind. 

Once again, Patrick enjoyed the view, although he noticed David sway in his saddle. It had been an exhausting day. “Wait till tomorrow?” Patrick asked as he dismounted next to David at the stable. David nodded tiredly. One more day before the kingdom knew about them would be fine. He was too spent to deal with the barrage of questions.

Patrick took the reins of the two horses and sent David inside. Patrick was tired, too, but he had certain duties to attend to. He was not, after all, the prince. After he got the horses into their stalls, he divested them of their tackle and brushed and groomed them. He walked outside with the tapestry and dropped it in the mud, come side down, before picking it up and placing it with the stable laundry. 

Walking back into the stable, Patrick stroked the nose of Symphonie, Alexis’s gray mare, before gathering the last of his things and heading back to the castle. It had been a long day, but he had a few minutes before dinner to hastily bathe and change.

Lord Patrick took his usual seat in the banquet hall. Both Lady Stevie and Princess Alexis were looking at him quizically, but the queen and king seemed unperturbed-- their son’s absence for the entire day in a downpour had apparently not been marked by the sovereigns. 

Lady Stevie arched her eyebrows at him, but he pretended he did not notice, instead watching the stone arch where he expected David to appear. David did not. 

Although the queen and king did not appear to notice the absence of their son and heir, no doubt assuming, if they thought of it at all, that their son had taken his meal in his room as usual, Patrick did notice. He became increasingly agitated as the meal continued interminably. As the after-dinner musicians took their place, Patrick excused himself unobtrusively and made his exit. He needed to find David. He was not exactly sure where his chamber was, but he meant to find it, and to make sure David was okay.

He made it ten paces before he heard a noise behind him.

“Hello Lord Patrick,” Lady Stevie said, enunciating his name in her particular way. 

He was torn between getting away to look for David and wanting to keep up appearances. The latter won. 

“Hello Lady Stevie, how are you?” he asked politely, turning to her with an inward groan. He willed his body to still itself so that he did not look like he was trying to race from the hall. 

Lady Steve ignored the pleasantry. “You were gone a long time today.”

“Trail ride.” Lord Patrick kept his explanation brief and his smile polite.

“And the prince?” Lady Stevie asked, with a contrived smile.

“He was likewise on the trailride.”

Lady Stevie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You seem very tired,” she continued. “But the exercise seems to have agreed with you. You’re glowing,” she said with a neutral tone and dancing eyes.

Lord Patrick felt his cheeks burn but did not reply.

“And the Prince is now…?” Lady Stevie continued when she saw that Lord Patrick was not going to volunteer any information.

“I don’t know” Lord Patrick admitted. “I expected him at dinner, but he wasn’t there.” He heard the worry in his own voice and knew Lady Stevie could hear it too. So much for keeping anything from her. 

“I can show you the way to his room, if you like. Follow me” she offered, the teasing dropping from her tone.

Lord Patrick’s washed with relief. “Could you, please do.” He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else had come into the hall. So far so good. “Please lead the way,” he said, gesturing for her to precede him.

After making numerous turns, she finally stopped at the door at the base of the turret. “He’s up there,” she said, gesturing. 

“Thank you,” Lord Patrick said, striding forward and grasping the handle.

“Do I need to get a chaperone?” Lady Stevie asked with an innocent tone.

Lord Patrick felt his face flush again, but he returned only a brusque “no, thank you” as he tugged the door open, walked through, and closed the door behind himself.

At the top of the stairs, Lord Patrick knocked on the heavy door. He did not hear an answer. He wondered whether he should just walk in-- it was against royal protocol, and what if Lady Stevie had been teasing him and he was about to walk into someone else’s room? Weighing the risk, he took a deep breath and entered anyway. 

He had hoped that the prince had simply decided to take dinner in his room after the eventful trail ride, but one look at David told him he was wrong. David lay in bed with the covers tucked up to his chin. Patrick strode over to the bed and placed the back of his fingers to David’s cheek. David was ill. 

“David, are you all right?” Patrick asked, looking concernedly down at him. 

“I don’t feel well” David replied, looking glazed.

“I’m going to go get help,” Patrick said turning to leave, his own exhaustion forgotten. David’s fingers weakly took his. “Promise to come back?” he asked.

“I promise,” Patrick replied, turning to look solemnly at David. Then he turned and left. 

Patrick came back with the castle physician and sat in a chair where he was out of the way but could hear every word. David had developed a fever after all. 

The next days were alarming. David grew sicker and more feverish. 

When the queen was told about her son, she shrieked and instituted a quarantine for herself. The king looked around helplessly. When the shiny new knight stepped forward and offered to look after the prince, the king nodded thankfully and turned to attend to his wife. 

Princess Alexis looked thoughtfully at Lord Patrick for several long seconds, then nodded. “Take care of him,” was all she said, before going to gather jewels to have her fortune read by Madame Twyla. 

Lady Stevie stepped to Lord Patrick’s side, as the other high-ranking nobles and royals cleared out of the hall. “How is he?” she asked.

“Not well,” Lord Patrick responded, white with shock at how David’s family had responded. 

“Let me know if he needs me?” she asked. Lord Patrick nodded, grimly, and turned to go. 

“Lord Patrick?” she said suddenly, and he looked back over his shoulder. But she just nodded, and turned away. Lord Patrick nodded himself, and returned to Prince David’s side.

Patrick’s mornings were spent exercising the horses and doing some cursory training for the upcoming joust. Princess Alexis was handling the planning of the event. She had initially asked him questions, but when he showed by his responses how absolutely uninterested he was in anything outside his immediate duties and David, she took over the full planning and left him free to meet his other obligations and tend to her brother. On the final occasion when she had asked a question, and he had replied with a weary shrug, she had reached out and booped him on the nose before turning to go. 

After working with the horses that morning, Patrick mounted the stairs to the tower room. Every morning he braced himself outside David’s door, preparing for the worst, taking a deep breath, and plastering a smile onto his face.

Every morning, David greeted him with a smile, and Patrick’s forced smile relaxed into a real smile. Patrick told David how the horses were doing, which knights would be competing in the joust (the prince was excused from participation due to his condition), any new information about the ball, castle gossip, and other events of the day. Patrick told David about the boop he had received from Alexis, and David smiled. “She likes you.”

Patrick smiled back. He liked the idea of being liked by David’s family. 

The men often talked about their childhoods and played games that David could play easily while reclining. One day, a few days after the trailride, Patrick brought an instrument with him. 

“What is that?” David asked.

“It’s a guitar.”

“Oh,” David responded, looking trepidatious. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. It’s not at all embarrassing to have the man you’re courting sing and play a guitar at you when you can't escape.” 

“Are you courting me, David?” Patrick asked in a low voice. Courting was a big deal. It meant a lot more than pressing their bodies together in a rainstorm.

“Only if you want,” David responded, looking at Patrick out of the corner of his eye. Patrick cupped David’s face in his palm and looked deeply into them, straight on. “I’m easy either way,” David continued, a smile starting to form as he read the look in Patrick’s. 

Patrick gently, carefully brought his lips to David’s for the first time since they had left the cabin. “I want,” he breathed. 

“You’re going to get the fever,” David responded, taking a deep breath and lying back against his pillow. 

“Worth it.” 

Then Patrick busied himself with his guitar, strumming absently for a few minutes before starting to softly sing to David, who softly smiled back.

When Patrick pushed David’s door open a week after the trail ride, he was relieved to see David sitting up higher in bed. There was color in his cheeks and a smile for Patrick on his face. 

Patrick felt David’s forehead. “Your fever broke,” he said, overwhelmed. David nodded. Patrick threw back his head and laughed in his relief. 

David patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Now come sit next to me and tell me about the jousting. I want to picture you on a horse.” 

The castle was delighted with the news that the prince was on the mend. But since no one from the royal family wanted to expose themselves just yet to “the vapor,” Patrick could conceal from them how rapidly David was getting better. David did not want to compete in the joust in two weeks, and neither of them wanted to give up their late mornings in bed, talking and touching.

In the second week of David’s recovery, as Patrick recounted an anecdote, David slowly reached up and pulled Patrick on top of himself. “I want to feel you, Lord Patrick,” he whispered into Patrick’s neck. Patrick immediately started to get hard. 

“Yeah?” he whispered against David’s mouth. 

David reached down and drew two of Patrick’s fingers into his mouth. He licked them and sighed around them, before opening his eyes and staring into Patrick’s. “Uh-uh” Patrick tried to catch his breath. “What if someone walks in?” 

“Lock the door” David said, swatting Patrick on the ass as Patrick started to stand. “And then take your clothes off,” he called. “I want to see you.”

That was all it took for Patrick. He quickly obeyed and shed his garments. Standing by the door, he felt self-conscious in the nude, until his eyes met David and his nerves fell away again, just like they had in the cabin. This was right. This was easy. 

After that, they spent every morning twisted up in the sheets. They explored each other gently and slowly as David recovered, taking the time to memorize each other’s bodies, learning planes and hollows, tasting skin and salt, reveling in textures. 

Now, when Patrick opened the door, the smile that greeted him was mischievous. Patrick would immediately turn the key in the lock and strip for David, as David watched, stroking himself with his pretty mouth making little "ohs." Then Patrick would stroll across the floor, so David could drink in how hard Patrick’s was for him.

The afternoons saw Patrick, relaxed in his saddle, out in the paddock. As his health improved, David stood at the turret window watching his man smash his lance into other men, as David got himself off on the memory of what Patrick’s real stick and thrust felt like inside David. 

By the week of the joust, David was well enough to leave his room. However, being a fan of the dramatic, he decided to make his grand appearance at the joust itself. 

Patrick snuck into his room that morning for a quick kiss before facing the competition.

“Is it the joust day?” David asked, sleepily. Patrick just smiled as a rumpled David leaned over to the table by his bed and removed a black and white silk handkerchief with David’s distinctive monogram. He handed it to Patrick.

“What is this?” Patrick asked, smiling.

“My favor,” David replied, smiling back. 

“Are you sure?” 

Because of David’s sudden illness, they had not announced their courtship to anyone. And Patrick did not want his visitation rights suspended. He shuddered at the thought of a chaperone.

Wearing David’s favor would be a bold way to communicate to everyone the relationship between the prince royal and the shiny new knight. David nodded. “I’m sure.” Patrick took the handkerchief gently in his hands and pressed it to his chest. 

As Patrick prepared to go down to the stables, David called “Break a leg today, honey!” 

“It’s “good luck,”” Patrick countered, winking. 

\---  
The day was cool and the cloud cover would keep the sun from glinting off the armor, blinding everyone. As one of the more anticipated participants, Lord Patrick was slated to be one of the last in the first round. 

Prince David climbed into the royal box with his parents and sister, along with several of the more senior lords and ladies in waiting. Once everyone was convinced that he was fully recovered, they fawned on him for about three minutes before focusing on their own intrigues. 

After an hour of matches, it was approaching time for Lord Patrick to make his appearance. Patrick rode into the ring, David’s handkerchief displayed prominently on his armor. Princess Alexis grasped Prince David’s arm and gasped, before playfully hitting her brother in the arm. “Oh my god, David! Does that cute little knight have your favor?” 

“Way to go, son” the king leaned over his wife, smiling at David. “That is very exciting,” he continued, before bringing his hands together, fingers pointed up, and making a small clapping motion. David shrank back in his seat.

“Am I to take from this that he is your wonderful Lord Patrick?” the queen asked, peering at her son. “I must admit that I did wonder about all those hours he spent ensconced in your room.” She looked meaningfully at her son, before smiling. “I just hope he is as good at extirpating adversaries as he is at nursing our son back to health!” 

David glanced finally at Lady Stevie, whose lips were pressed together in a small smile and whose eyes shone with approval. She pointed at Patrick then gave a thumbs up. David smiled back at her.

At that, it seemed his family had finished weighing in on his courtship, and Prince David could return to ogling Patrick’s ass in his tight pants. 

Although David did not care much for jousts generally, he had to admit it was thrilling to watch Patrick splinter lance after lance against his opponents. When Lord Patrick unseated one of the other knights in the second round, David was so swept up in the moment that he leapt to his feet and cheered. Patrick, searching David out as soon as he had stopped his horse, looked at David and beamed. 

Lord Patrick won out of all the regional knights and placed silver overall; the tournament crown went to a well-known and experienced knight from another kingdom. Lord Patrick shrugged off the defeat with good grace, and was proud to have maintained his seat against his competitor. Lord Patrick liked to win, but silver was still something to be proud of, and David praised him as if he had won gold. 

That night, David snuck into Patrick’s room. David massaged Patrick’s aching shoulders and arms and legs, before settling himself with a humming noise between Patrick’s legs. He massaged Patrick’s cock with his tongue and mouth to completion, and left Patrick sleeping soundly.

After the joust, David began to dine in the great hall, where he could catch glimpses of his handsome knight charming almost everyone to whom he spoke. Countess Ronnie was an exception, but David was of the opinion that if everyone liked you, you were doing something wrong. 

Once David felt up to it, Patrick resumed his training. David thought it might be a little weird being bossed around by someone he slept with, but as soon as Patrick swatted him with a riding crop and said “come on, I want to stare at your stretched ass for the next hour,” David was onboard. 

But first, David pulled a grinning Patrick into the empty tackle room, barred the door, and fucked him senseless. The next day, Patrick took a barely protesting David on a trail ride, led him to another meadow he had found, and returned the favor. 

As they were cleaning up with the extra cloths that Patrick started carrying with him at all times (“always be prepared, David”), David looked out across the meadow and said “hey.”

“Hey,” Patrick responded, stilling his hand and looking curiously at David’s concerned face. “David, what’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

Patrick nodded, but waited.

“About the ball.”

“Okay?” 

“About your parents.” 

Oh. 

David began twisting his fingers through the grass. “Would you like to invite them?” David asked, hesitantly. 

Patrick’s molasses eyes grew wide, and he looked uncomfortable. 

“You don’t have to,” David said quickly, sitting up at the look on Patrick’s face. “I just thought, if you want to, you should. If you want.”

Patrick continued to stare across the meadow. He slowly returned to cleaning himself, then cleaning David, while his face remained taut. Nervously, David waited. Had he spooked Patrick? Oh god, was Patrick going to leave him, go back to Brewington? Had he been planning on returning for some time? Had David and his family finally become too much for Patrick?

Patrick took a look at David’s face and saw him spiraling. “Hey,” Patrick said, softly. “Come back to me.” David looked at Patrick and took a deep breath. “David, I am not going anywhere,” Patrick answered David’s unspoken thought.

“My parents probably still think that leaving home is a phase, and that I am going to go back, and marry the person they betrothed me to when I was a child, and all of that. But, hey,” Patrick continued, cupping David’s chin and looking into his eyes. “None of that is going to happen. I am staying here. With you. And yes, I am ready for them to see that.” Patrick took another deep breath. “Let’s invite them.” 

Touched, David leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Patrick’s. “I will be here, and I will help you get through it,” he whispered, before touching his forehead lightly to Patrick’s. Patrick took a deep, grounding breath, and began to gather their things and finish dressing. 

The mood was quieter that day between them, more subdued. David could tell Patrick was apprehensive, and every time he saw the little worry line appear between Patrick’s brows, he reached out to touch him, to steady him. And Patrick would take a breath, and re-center, and smile at David. David could tell he was helping Patrick, and David had never felt his heart so full. 

The invitations were sent, and the ball drew near. The days grew colder, and Princess Alexis grew increasingly persistent that David and Patrick help with the planning. Patrick loved to watch the siblings bicker over color palettes and table settings, but he had his own idea to plan. Whenever David and Alexis began to row, Patrick would let his mind wander down its own paths. 

Finally, the eve of the ball was upon them. Guests had been arriving all day, although there was no sign yet of Patrick’s parents by the time he retired for bed. Tomorrow, then.

Having tossed and turned for an hour, Patrick got out of bed and resolved to take care of at least one thing that was in his control. 

Patrick placed a fresh piece of parchment on his desk and sat down. Raising his quill, he began to write. 

When he was done, Patrick folded the parchment, put on his dressing robe, and left his chamber before he could change his mind. When he strode through the music room at the base of the tower, he did not see the dark eyes flicker down to the parchment in his hand or watch him go through the door to David’s chamber. Patrick climbed onward and upward, until he reached that door he had been through so many times. Taking a deep breath, he bent down and slid the parchment under the door, then turned, and left. 

Lady Stevie watched until Lord Patrick had returned from the tower and turned in the direction of his room, before padding noiselessly across the flags and tracing Lord Patrick’s earlier steps. Once she had ascended to the top, she bent down, suspecting. Yes, there was a piece of parchment just under the door. Stretching her long slim fingers out, she could just grasp it.

Lady Stevie pulled the parchment paper toward herself, and opened it. After she read it, she took a deep breath, nodded, and bent back down. Quietly, she slipped the paper back under the door. 

The next morning, Prince David woke to sunlight streaming through his windows. He stretched and got up, performing his morning ablutions and dressing himself. He tended to dispense with dressers except for grand occasions-- he liked his privacy. As he walked to the door in preparation to go eat, he looked down and saw the folded bit of parchment. Curious, he bent down and picked it up. When he opened it, he read:

What would you pick if you had to choose  
Between taking a risk and playing safe  
Although I don’t wanna play if I am gonna lose  
I don’t want to lose cause I didn’t play  
So I just want to say  
I love you  
Love,  
Patrick

David silently placed his hand over his mouth. He read the sixth line over and over, I love you I love you I love you I love you. He walked over to a chair and sat down. Then he stood up and walked over to the window that overlooked the paddock. No Patrick. 

David considered going back to bed. No, it was the day of the ball. He was not about to miss that. He knew he loved Patrick, yet to see it written down was terrifying. Was he ready to make that leap, tell Patrick he loved him? "Oh my god I love Patrick." His conscious mind raced to catch up. Okay, he loved Patrick. But was he ready to communicate all that implied? 

David sat, and thought, and paced, and looked out the window, and paced, and looked out the window again. Finally, his desire to see Patrick overrode all other considerations. He wanted to feel that solid, smirky, good man beneath his hands, touch those solid shoulders, and get lost in those dangerously loving eyes…

Suddenly David marched to the door and pulled it open. And there, with his hand raised to knock, was Patrick.

David seized Patrick by the shoulders, pulled Patrick into his arms, and crushed their lips together. “I love you,” David breathed, pulling back to stare into Patrick’s warm eyes. 

“I love you too,” Patrick said simply, smiling, pulling David in close for another kiss. David threw his head back and laughed, then looked back and Patrick and smiled. 

“Come on,” Patrick said, although he kept his arms wrapped tightly around David. “I have some people I want you to meet.” 

“Oh, oh my god,” David said, flailing his arms around with nerves. 

“It’s okay,” Patrick said, releasing David’s waist with his arms and clasping one of Davd’s hands with his own. “We’ll do it together.” He gave a reassuring squeeze to David’s hand. “And don’t worry, I already told them about you.”

Beneath their disappointment that Patrick would not be returning home and living the life that they had carefully cultivated for him, Patrick’s parents seemed genuinely happy for him and welcoming of David. David thought back to all those childhood stories Patrick had shared while David convalesced, and he felt the stories come alive as he talked with Patrick’s kind parents. 

Eventually Alexis found their cozy group and hauled David away to help her tell other people how to handle the final preparations. David did not see Patrick for the rest of the afternoon and found himself impatient to see him at the ball. “He loves me” he practiced believing. He could not help it-- every time he thought it, he felt fire run through him like whiskey. “Me.” 

A groomsman carefully dressed David for the ball in black velvet shot with silver. As it was an occasion for pageantry, a silver crown was placed atop David’s perfectly coifed hair. His pants were tight black silk, and showed off his muscular physique among other his other endowments. When he was fetched for his entrance, he was ready. 

As the crown prince, he would be one of the last to enter, followed only by his parents. This meant that Patrick would be in the room already. Waiting for him. 

Patrick stood talking pleasantly with his parents, though his attention was fixed on the doors. When Princess Alexis was announced and swept in with a smile for the room, he felt his heart rate ratchet up. David was next.

And then there he was, framed in the doorway, resplendently gorgeous. “He loves me,” Patrick told himself, the words bouncing around giddily in his mind. “That amazing man, right there, that man loves me.” And then David’s eyes picked Patrick out from the crowd, and David smiled the brightest smile Patrick had ever seen. 

To his left, Patrick’s mother slowly raised her handkerchief to her eyes, with happiness. Patrick’s father wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and grinned. They could tell that Patrick had never been happier, in his life.

David led Patrick out for the first two dances, before having to leave Patrick to make the rounds as prince and host. Patrick took the opportunity to catch up with his parents more before doing his own rounds as a knight of the kingdom. Patrick and David were briefly able to dance together again for two dances, before again having to separate for David to perform more duty rounds. 

It was time.

First, Patrick located the king and queen, and asked for their permission to put his plan into action. The queen seemed hesitant initially as to the first part, but with a dramatic “why not” and flourish of the hand, she finally acceded. The king just beamed and said “sure, sure." Bowing and stepping away, Patrick grinned to himself. It was, indeed, time. 

Patrick went to his room and returned with his guitar. He flagged down the master of ceremonies, then stepped over to the musicians, all of whom were expecting him and knew their roles. As the musicians finished their set, the master of ceremonies stepped forward to introduce Lord Patrick.

As the master of ceremonies’s remarks came to a close, Patrick took a deep breath, then stepped forward with his guitar. “I would like to dedicate this song to Prince David.” At the sudden attention, Prince David pulled his arms in front of his body in a protective stance. “There he is, can’t miss him.” Patrick smiled, as a blush made David look like he was on fire. 

David knew Patrick could sing, but what in the name of the twelve kingdoms was Patrick doing? David anxiously folded and refolded his arms around himself as Patrick strummed his guitar, looked him right in the eyes, and began to play David’s favorite song. 

As Patrick’s rich voice crooned the medieval classic folk song “Simply the Best,” David felt himself overcome with and surrounded by love. He could not keep the smile from blooming forward and tucking into his cheek, as Patrick gazed into his eyes and sung his love for David in front of everyone they knew. 

As the last chord reverberated over the suspended air of the crowd, Patrick smiled at David with pure joy. 

Patrick turned around and thanked the master of ceremonies and nodded to the other musicians that they were free to resume their playing. Patrick handed his guitar to a page, then turned back around to David. David was gone.

Patrick looked around in surprise, trying to catch a glimpse of black and silver. Instead, he caught Lady Stevie’s eye. Patrick walked quickly to her. With a little smile, she slipped something into his hand, then gestured with her head to a wooden door at the end of the ballroom. He flashed her a “thank you” with his eyes, slid the object up his sleeve, and strode purposefully across the room. 

To Patrick’s surprise, when he stepped through the door, the night air greeted him. He was standing in the courtyard. And there, a dozen yards away in the rose garden, sat David. 

Patrick walked over to David’s seated figure with measured steps. “Hey,” Patrick said gently, as he reached David. “Are you okay?” 

David nodded. His eyes were a little red, but when Patrick sat next to him and took his hand, David smiled. There were a lot of things that David wanted to say, but he could only seem to put one thing into words. “I love you,” he whispered, looking into Patrick’s eyes. “That was beautiful,” David finally managed to add, tears shining in his eyes. 

Slowly, Patrick kneeled in front of David and drew the box that Stevie had handed him from his sleeve. 

“What?!” David asked, breathlessly, taking the box and opening it. Four golden rings nestled in black velvet. 

“David, when you were sick, and I thought I was going to lose you, I thought my world was over. I had just found you.” Patrick took a breath, then continued. “You make me so happy, David. You make me feel right. I didn’t know what I was doing when I left home a year ago. I thought I was running away, but it turns out I was running to you.” Patrick unconsciously placed his hands on David’s silk-clad thighs, grasping for the right words. “I saw you, and it was like my mind did a double take. I knew it mattered, that it meant something. But I had no idea that day that you would be as precious to me as you are now. That one day you would be sitting here, in front of me. Right here,” Patrick squeezed David’s knees gently. “The love of my life. David, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Patrick took a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

David’s shoulders started to shake with his tears. “Are you sure?” he asked, looking down at the box and back up at Patrick. 

“Easiest decision of my life.” 

David clasped Patrick’s head in his hands, wetting Patrick’s cheeks with tears that neither of them minded. “Yes! It’s a yes,” he said, pressing his lips to Patrick’s before drawing him up from the ground into his lap. “I love you” David whispered again, unable to find other words for how he was feeling. To Patrick, it was enough. “I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note lines adapted from Noah Reid's "False Alarms"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to Smarty_Pants, without whom Chapter 2 would not exist, and to EmuFume, without whom Chapter 3 would not exist. Your encouragement is the only thing that kept this story going. 
> 
> Cheers to all my Rosebuddies. You're the best drinking pals a person could have.   
Thank you always to IntoTheWineNotTheLabel-- you know what you did, and I will always be in your debt.   
And thank you to BiblioPan for letting me flail about how to put words down in a way that doesn't feel like a corruption of Shakespeare: 
> 
> *It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and flurry, signifying nothing* 
> 
> Flurry being, apparently, my writing process.
> 
> I thought this would be the final chapter, but David and Patrick just wouldn't stop talking, so the wedding will be in Chapter 4. Chapter 4 is mostly written, so that should be up soon.

Lord Patrick of Brewington, knight of the realm of Rosewood, laughed suddenly in joyful disbelief. "We're getting married!" 

David, eyes shining, whispered the words back to Patrick. “We’re getting married.”

The promise shimmered in the air between them as Patrick took the rings one by one from the velvet box and placed them gently on the fingers of David's left hand. 

David's smile, usually such a hidden, secret thing, bloomed across his face. David wrapped his arms snugly around Patrick's waist, pressing him close. David wanted Patrick under his skin and all around him and by his side forever, and he was going to get all of those things. 

David drew back and looked down at his two hands, four gold rings on the left and four silver rings on the right. After a moment, he gave a small nod. Slowly, he pulled a silver ring off of his right ring finger and slid it gently onto Patrick's left ring finger. 

Patrick caught his breath, and David paused. Was this okay? David scanned Patrick’s face for an answer, but Patrick was staring at their hands, body held still on a breath. 

Sighing softly, Patrick pressed his hand warmly into David's. David released his own breath, and continued circling Patrick’s fingers with the rings that had been part of David’s armor, and later part of his identity, and would now become part of the symbol of their commitment to one another. Once all four silver rings were placed, Patrick tucked the box back up his sleeve before pulling David into one soft kiss after another.

Pressing one last gentle kiss to David's smiling lips, Patrick loosened himself from David's enthusiastic grip and stood. Holding out his hand to David, Patrick indicated his head in the direction of the ballroom. "Come on, let's go share the good news." 

Patrick brushed off his knee with his free hand while David tried to smooth his smile into something more measured. Failing, David allowed himself to be pulled happily behind Patrick. Patrick stopped and turned to David when they reached the sturdy oak door. 

"After you, Your Highness," Patrick said, eyes dancing at David as he dropped David’s hand and pulled open the door. "Ohkay" David responded, but his eyes beamed, before he turned and strode confidently into the room. 

Stevie stood waiting, eyes alert. She let out a choked exclamation of happiness as soon as she saw their faces, and impulsively she reached out and gave David a tight hug. "Take care of each other, you idiots," she murmured to them as she pulled away from David and smoothed back her hair. She laughed and gestured toward the queen and king. "Get on with it then," she said brusquely as she blinked back happy tears. David smiled fondly at her before reclaiming Patrick’s hand and pulling him toward the queen and king.

"Well that's convenient," Patrick murmured, when he saw who was chatting with the sovereigns.

"Mom, Dad, Lord and Lady Brewington, we have something to tell you," David said, stepping onto the dais as a smile fought its way across his face. 

"Oh, yes, Patrick has already asked that we bless this union with our beneficence.” Queen Moira smiled at them, head held high. 

"Oh son, we're just so thrilled--" King Johnny started.

"And we said “we are delighted to enfold you into our family, Pat...rick'," Queen Moira interrupted, punctuating her words with a lilting staccato. 

Clearly, however, this was news to Lord and Lady Brewington. Lady Marcy looked at Patrick with wide eyes for confirmation of what sounded like it could possibly be something to do with a betrothal. His face was all the answer she needed. "Oh, my sweet boy," she said, pulling first Patrick and then David into hugs. 

Lord Clint smiled kindly and placed his hands on Patrick's shoulders. "I'm proud of you son.”

"Thanks Dad," Patrick responded quietly as he smiled softly. 

"Oh my goodness what is going on here?" Princess Alexis popped up in their midst in a rustle of pink silk, a sweep of golden waves, and the instincts of a bloodhound. As she caught sight of David and Patrick's hands, her mouth flew open and she lightly hit David on the shoulder. "OH my GOD! Are you engaged?" she shrieked in glee. 

Suddenly, the room quieted as all heads swiveled toward the royal dais. Fighting to take control of the story, Prince David turned from his family and stepped forward, clutching Lord Patrick's hand in his, and told the guests the good news. With the exception of Countess Ronnie, who appeared to be muttering something to Madam Twyla, everyone in the room was completely silent. 

And then, from the dais, Princess Alexis began clapping. Suddenly, the room was with her, and with Prince David and Lord Patrick, and a murmur of pleased surprise swelled into a cheer. The betrothal of their Crown Prince was, after all, a very big deal. Beaming at the response, David looked at Patrick, who could not tear his eyes away from his fiance. 

Princess Alexis stepped forward. "David, I am very proud of you for not messing this up," she said. "Six whole months, David!" 

"Eat emeralds" David hissed back. 

Patrick stepped closer to his future sister. "Wait, six months? How long have you known?"

Princess Alexis just smiled coyly. "Good job, Button," she said, booping him on the nose. She blinked both of her eyes, smooshed them closed briefly, and flounced off. 

"Was that supposed to be a wink?" Patrick asked David. David just rolled his eyes in Alexis's direction, and pulled his fiance out onto the dance floor. They had a wedding to plan. But first, he wanted to dance with the man who loved him.

The prospect of marriage hung between David and Patrick like a shimmering orb, radiant when viewed from the corner of the eye, but blinding when contemplated directly. When David thought about waking up with Patrick every day of the rest of his life, he felt like he was tempting fate. When Patrick thought about being married to David, he felt almost sick with happiness. So instead of thinking about marriage, they thought about the wedding. The royal wedding. Prince David's royal wedding. 

Patrick knew what he had been getting into when he proposed to David. A lifetime of bliss; but first an elaborate and painstakingly planned ceremony that would make Patrick want to fling himself into the sea, if he allowed himself to focus only on practicalities. The reality was that he and David each had relevant and important and disparate needs for the wedding. Those needs may not have looked equivalent, and David and Patrick may not have understood why each other had those needs, but as long as they respected the validity of the other’s wishes, they would create a magical experience together.

They had decided to marry as soon as they could reasonably plan the ceremony that David had never quite allowed himself to dream of. That way, Patrick's parents could stay through the wedding instead of making the long journey home and back again. 

The morning after the betrothal was clean and fresh with bright blue skies and a vibe of summer. At 11am, as Patrick was exercising the last horse, he saw David striding toward him across the paddock. Patrick smiled at how gorgeous his fiance looked with his long legs and beautiful face and noble posture. Patrick then mentally undressed David with his eyes, and smiled wider. 

When David reached him, Patrick's greeting was cut off by David's enthusiastic kiss. "Good morning, fiance" Patrick murmured against David's soft lips. 

"Good morning," David murmured back softly. "So we're still doing that?"

Patrick's eyebrows shot up-- you could tell if you looked closely. "Yeah, David, we're still doing that." He looked pointedly at the rings on David's fingers, then at the rings on his own. 

"Just checking," David whispered, before surging forward against Patrick and pressing his whole body into a kiss. 

"Mmmmm," Patrick murmured. "Are just you here to say hello, or are you waiting to stare at my ass on a horse?" 

David pretended to be affronted. "I have no idea what you mean.” 

"Okay, then you get on a horse. I want to look at your ass." 

David blushed up to his hairline but did not even bother to hide his grin. "Actually, I was thinking about plans."

"Plans?" Patrick asked, pulling a carrot out of his pocket and feeding Symphonie. 

"Yeah, you know. For the... thing."

"The wedding?" Patrick pressed. 

"Mmmmhm. Mmhm. The... wedding."

"You can say it David. The wedding. We're getting married. We're going to have a beautiful wedding, that we're going to plan together, hopefully with as little of your sister's help as possible, and then we are going to be--" suddenly Patrick cleared his throat-- "married." 

David knew he had already kissed Patrick a lot that morning in plain view of the castle, but how was he supposed to resist kissing such a sexy man smiling at him like that while saying that to him? He could not resist. He pressed himself against Patrick once more, and Patrick wound his arms around David and hummed happily against David's lips. 

Patrick pulled back a quarter of an inch. "So you want to talk about plans." 

"Mmmhmm." David closed the distance again. 

"Plans for what?" Patrick pressed.

"Wedmph plans," David mumbled.

"I didn't hear you David."

"Okay, yes, you did hear me." David wound his arms around Patrick's neck and held him in place, close. 

"What kind of plans, David," Patrick asked again, his voice low and quiet and sexy.

"Wedding plans," David said softly yet clearly, a smile breaking across his face.

"That's right," Patrick said in that same low tone, as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against David's.

"What wedding plans did you want to talk about?" Patrick asked, his voice at a normal volume again, as he stepped back and stroked Symphonie's muzzle where she was nosing at his front pockets.

"Mine," David said sternly to the horse before looking at Patrick. "I was thinking about the venue."

"Ah," Patrick looked down at the ground. "About that. I wanted to talk to you."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, it's just that, you know I come from the lake country?"

"Mmmhmm," David answered, head tilted to the side and eyebrows drawn together.

"Right, so we have a tradition." Patrick's hand came up to rub the back of his neck. "It's kind of important to me. There's a lake here, and I thought maybe we could... do it. Do the tradition."

Patrick looked up at David through his lashes. He almost smiled at how round David's eyes were, but he barreled on instead. "So, the tradition is that the engaged couple are rowed out onto the lake and say their vows over water. To show that they're one, that no matter what might isolate them, family or nature or anything, that they are together."

"You want to get married in the lake?!" David exclaimed, arms wrapping around himself, his face etched with horror.

"Not in the lake, David. I don't think I'll make it through my vows if I get to look at you in wet clothes."

David didn't even smile at this, at least not much, so Patrick went for his last and only card. "Please just consider it?"

David continued to stand there, horrified for several long moments. "I will consider...considering it." He still looked ill, so Patrick stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, fiance," he whispered in David's ear.

"Come on, Symphonie," Patrick called, walking away. Patrick swung himself up into Symphonie's saddle and smiled at David. "See you at dinner!"

David stood there, stunned, for ten minutes. And only the last five were spent staring at Patrick's in the saddle.

"A fucking lake?!" It wasn't until David was back at the castle that he realized that he had not even talked to Patrick about the color scheme he'd spent the morning moodboarding. 

**********

Lord and Lady Brewington fit seamlessly into the life of the castle. They were kind and conscientious, they were the parents of the kingdom's favorite knight, and they were astute enough to know when to excuse themselves when the royal family seemed like they were about to ask for outside opinions on a contested topic. They showed themselves to be quite adept at this last skill, and as a result, everyone liked them.

Although the Brewingtons were happy to have been welcomed by the royal family, their real joy came from watching their son. His confidence had flourished in his new role in the kingdom, and his happiness had blossomed in his relationship with Prince David. In their first days in the castle, alongside their joy, a part of them had mourned the loss of the life they had dreamt up for him, a life that would have kept him close to home. But such thoughts began to recede when they saw how much joy Patrick took in his new life. Eventually the feeling was no larger than the kernel of loss that all loving parents carry when their children grow independent and create their own lives. 

Patrick felt waves of relief when he thought about how kind his parents had been to David when they had met him. When Patrick saw them at dinner the night after the ball, chatting bemusedly with Madam Twyla and being charmed by Princess Alexis, he let his guilt at ruining their lifelong plans fall away from him. It was okay to be happy. His parents would not force him to share their dreams in order to still share their lives. 

Lord Patrick looked around the banquet hall for a glimpse of David as he walked to his usual seat with the knights of the realm. To his surprise, there was an empty seat at David's side at the royal table. As if by instinct, David looked up as soon as Patrick's eyes fell on him, and David smiled. Gesturing at the place at his side, David beckoned Patrick over.

"What is this?" Patrick asked once he had reached David. 

"It's your seat," David said smugly.

"No it's not, my seat is over there."

"Not any more," David responded, his mouth twisted to the side and his eyes sparkled. "The queen thought we shouldn't wait for the wedding to shift the seating arrangements."

Patrick looked over at Queen Moira, who raised her goblet at him and gave him a small, sincere smile. Patrick's grin broke over his face and he bowed to her, before taking his place at David's side.

"This will also give us time to plan the wedding," David said before Patrick had even made contact with the seat of the chair.

"Oh, you've thought about my lake idea," Patrick responded, not looking at David but smiling over to where his parents were seated. 

"Um, no? I was actually, I was thinking about colors," David said quickly, recoiling anew at the lake idea. Patrick gave a little wave to his parents before turning to David and smiling.

"Okay David. What colors do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking the colors of the evening sky?" 

"Like reds, oranges, yellows, pinks?" Patrick asked. David just stared at him.

"Like the sunset David, keep up." David couldn't resist a little smile at Patrick's "keep up." Patrick's confidence made David feel worthy.

"Okay, not like the sunset. I was thinking blacks, silvers--"

"So basically what you wear everyday."

"I'm not finished! Blacks, silvers, deep blues, maybe some purple," David slipped that last part in there and glanced at Patrick out of the corner of his eyes.

"Are you trying to dress me again?" 

"No! No. I just thought, since it's the color of royalty, and you will become royalty when you marry me..." David trailed off, looking expectantly at Patrick.

"I'm not wearing purple, David. And I will become your husband when I marry you, and that's all I care about."

Patrick just barely heard David whisper "husband" to himself, face gone soft. 

"Husband," Patrick said firmly. Patrick sought David’s beautiful hand beneath the table and pressed it with his own, before moving his own hand back to his lap. No use in getting his new seat privileges revoked for impropriety before they had even gotten their meal. But David reached back over and claimed Patrick's hand in his, threading their fingers together as he whispered "husband" once more. 

"I don't mind black and silver and blue," Patrick said gently, giving David's fingers a squeeze. David hummed in response and lightly swept his thumb over the back of Patrick’s hand. 

"But let's talk about who is going to perform the ceremony," Patrick said with false cheer as the court jester entered. 

"Oh no," David whispered. 

"Remind me again. So Reeve Roland is the jester, and the court officiant?"

"Yes." Patrick had never heard David's voice sound so small and miserable. 

"So when we exchange our vows on the lake, it will be Reeve Roland out there in the boat with the witnesses, performing the ceremony?" 

"Oh my god," David moaned, putting his head in his right hand. "We can't get married. This is terrible."

"David," Patrick said, firmly pressing David’s hand in his. "We're going to get married. Think of it--"

But Patrick's voice was drowned out by the boom of King Johnny's laugh at something the jester had done. Patrick had been watching the jester out of the corner of his eye, but could not for the life of him figure out what had been considered funny. Looking around, apparently everyone except Johnny shared Patrick’s bewilderment.

"What time of day do you want to have the ceremony?" Patrick asked, hoping to draw David’s thoughts in a more soothing direction.

Patrick got David through the rest of dinner with wedding talk. David still appeared horrified at the end of it at the realization that Reeve Roland would be the officiant, but at least David almost seemed resigned. 

*******************

The days passed quickly. Patrick spent the mornings performing his typical duties, usually with at least one visit in the stableyard from David. Afternoons were spent with his parents or getting to know the running of the kingdom with King Johnny, who enthusiastically took Patrick under his wing. Evenings were spent eating dinner with David, who no longer ate in his room, followed by court entertainment. 

Days for David were spent chatting with Stevie over a late breakfast in his waiting room, wedding planning, planning marriage chambers, bickering with Alexis over details, avoiding his mother and father, visiting Patrick, and eating dinner followed by evening entertainment. Occasionally, David and Patrick were able to plan their own late late evening entertainment, although it was a bit trickier now that everyone's eyes were on them.

One evening at the post-dinner evening entertainment, as the madriggals performed a song chosen by Queen Moira and repeatedly interrupted by her, Patrick asked David what kind of music he wanted at their ceremony.

"Obviously we want the court musicians to play at the reception. Since we're doing a sunset ceremony, followed by dinner and dancing, we will want to pick the right songs for both dinner and dancing. At dinner, we want to set a romantic mood, with softer ballads so that everyone can focus on our love for one another, and then after dinner the musicians can play a mix of slow and fast songs to keep the evening moving without taking too much focus from us."

"I see you haven't given it any thought. But I was thinking about during the ceremony."

"Oh, right. During the ceremony. Like when I walk down the aisle?"

"Or as we're rowed out on the boat, yes." That won Patrick a look askance, which he tucked away to treasure later.

"What about them?" Patrick gestured at the madriggals. David looked, thoughtful. 

"I suppose so," David mused. Then his voice picked up. "We'll have the harpist to set the mood as guests get seated, then the madriggals will sing me down the aisle, and then the harpist can play us out. That could work." Patrick quickly kissed David on the side of his head. 

"Okay David. And about the aisle. Have you considered including my tradition? Which is basically the one thing I've asked for?"

"Okay, but you also asked not to wear purple." 

"That is the absence of something you were trying to make me do, that is not the same thing as compromising on something I want included," Patrick said with a tinge of exasperation. "At least let me row you out on the lake this week. It'll be romantic. And then, if you really don't want to do it for the ceremony, we won't do it."

"But then I would still be on a lake, presumably, at some point."

"In the interest of compromise," Patrick vollied back with a smile.

"I'll consider it."

"Aww, thank you David," Patrick said in a playful tone, kissing David on the side of the head again, before settling back to listed to the madriggals. They really were not bad. 

The next day was warm and overcast, the kind of weather that made the thought of nature's power prickle across Patrick's arms. It made him feel alive and part of the mysteries of the world.

Throughout the morning, as Patrick cared for the horses, his eyes strayed to the skies and he squinted at them, trying to read them. As the morning progressed, the wind died down but the sky stayed gray.

"Hi." 

Patrick knew that whisper. He lowered his hand and turned his eyes from the sky to a very handsome prince. "Hi yourself," he murmured back, placing his hand behind David's neck and pulling him gently to his lips. 

"So," David said when their lips parted.

"So...?" Patrick cocked his head at David. 

"I've been thinking about our compromise."

Patrick just looked at David, waiting for him to continue, lips pursed slightly.

"I was thinking, why don't we try going out on the lake. Just you and me. You will be rowing. I will be sitting. On a boat. In the lake."

"Okay David," Patrick said, pulling him in for another kiss.

"And, I was thinking, will you need to roll your little sleeves up, to row? Or maybe leave your little jacket behind? Just in case we fall in, or?"

"I think you want me to roll my sleeves up," Patrick murmured against David's lips as he captured them again. "Are you going to stare at my arms, David?"

"Mmmhmm, yes. I will definitely be staring at your forearms." 

"Really." Patrick kissed him again. "And how many layers exactly are you planning for me to take off?" 

"I mean, I hadn't planned exactly. Of course, you'll still need to keep your tunic and pants on, but maybe the other layers... could... be left behind?" 

"Well, I really don't think that would be seemly, do you David? What if someone saw me?"

"Umm..."

"On the other hand, if you ordered me to leave the rest of the clothes...since you're the prince and I'm the knight, I guess I would have to obey."

David pressed forward and bit Patrick's lip lightly, then swirled his tongue across it. "I love your bottom lip. I want to suck it," David whispered, releasing it slightly and then pressing himself flush against Patrick. 

"Mmmm" Patrick mumbled, until his lip was released all the way and he could speak again. But by that point he was too distracted by the feel of David's hard planes against his to know what he had been about to say.

"So let's go," David said, smiling at Patrick's unfocused expression before pressing a kiss to a cord of Patrick's thick neck. 

"Now?!" Patrick exclaimed, pointing at the sky. 

"Mmmhmm let's go," David said again as he turned and walked toward the boathouse. "Don't forget to take off those clothes!" he called over his shoulder. 

Patrick shrugged his shoulders and then set off at a trot behind David. As he passed David, Patrick reached out and swatted him on the ass.

"Keep up!" Patrick called back at David over his shoulder. 

Patrick, wearing only his tunic on top with his forearms exposed to the elbow, rowed himself and David out onto the lake. David kept his glance traveling in a loop between Patrick's forearms, Patrick's slightly swollen bottom lip, and the sky overhead.

Patrick kept them close to the shore, but David encouraged him to row farther out. Patrick cocked a barely visible eyebrow at David, but he checked the sky and then rowed them farther away from the shore. 

"Isn't this nice?" Patrick teased. He got a noncommittal sound from David in response. "Are you ready to go back?"

David checked the sky again and then shook his head. The sky was still gray but no rain was falling. 

"Ohhhkay," Patrick said, at a loss. Sitting in the middle of a lake in a boat in his beautiful clothes under a threatening sky did not seem like an activity David would want to extend. 

After a few minutes of silently coasting across the water, David looked at Patrick's snug pants and said "do you think they can see us from shore?"

The shore was no more than 100 feet away. "Yes David."

David pouted, but looked back up at the sky. Patrick waited him out. After another ten minutes, most of which David spent either looking at the darkening clouds or getting ready to look at the darkening clouds, David finally asked to go back to the shore. 

When they were back on land with the boat safely stowed, Patrick relaxed his tense shoulder muscles. He had not been thrilled about the prospect of rowing them back through a storm. But while Patrick was relieved, David was fully pouting.

"David, what's wrong?" Patrick asked. 

"It didn't rain." 

Patrick just stared at him. 

"I wanted it to rain," David whispered. 

"You wanted it to rain?" Patrick repeated, dumbstruck.

"Yes, okay. I wanted it to rain! I wanted to get caught in a rainstorm with you on a lake, because it would have been romantic!" David shouted over the rising wind, gesticulating wildly. "I wanted to see you in your little tunic get all wet and dripping and you would toss your curls back and--" David gestured to Patrick-- "you're just dry!"

Patrick stood there in shock for a few moments before he covered his mouth with his hand. "David. Oh my god. David." Patrick started laughing. 

David looked embarrassed. 

"David, I love you so much." Patrick stepped over to David, put his arms around David's waist, and leaned in.

Just as their lips met, the skies opened and the rain cascaded over them in sheets. Patrick surged forward, slipped his hands up to grasp the back of David's head, and devoured David with his kiss. Patrick then ripped his lips free, grabbed David's hand, and pulled David running along behind him to the boathouse. 

Patrick stumbled through the open door into the middle of the boathouse and turned to face David. Wan light spilled across Patrick from each opening.

"Holy fuck," David murmured. The light hitting Patrick from each side illuminated him and made him blaze in the darkness. Patrick looked like a candle aflame. 

Patrick spread his arms wide as he stared intensely at David. "Is this what you wanted?" he shouted over the downpour outside. 

David nodded.

"You wanted me to look like this?" 

David nodded again.

"You wanted me to be wet and cold and stuck in a boathouse that's open at both ends with nothing to change into and no way to be dry?" Patrick swept his hand through the wet curls that were spiraling raindrops across his forehead. 

David was mesmerized by that little sweep of the hair. Breathing shallowly, David nodded again.

"Okay David," Patrick said more quietly, stepping toward David. "You have me. Now what are you going to do with me?"

David growled low in his throat and grabbed Patrick, spun him around, and pushed him against the weathered wood planks of the red boathouse. 

"There's a start," Patrick whispered, before grabbing David by the arms and thrusting David around so that David’s back was to the boathouse now. "But what am I going to do with you?" Patrick had captured David's hands, and he slowly pinned them over David's head, securing David in place.

Patrick's deep gold eyes looked wild and feline in the low light. Breaking their gaze, Patrick pressed himself feverishly against David as he consumed his lips. David moaned and felt his knees go weak as he stood captured, and let Patrick take everything he wanted. Patrick who had looked so sexy in his dripping wet white shirt. Patrick who had burned like a candle. 

Suddenly, David pressed forward against Patrick, maneuvering himself off the wall. Patrick stilled instantly, and looked at David. “Is this okay?”

"Boat," David rasped, pushing Patrick backward until they hit the boat they had just taken onto the lake. Patrick had pushed it up the incline, safe from the water, but it was still flipped right side up awaiting the boat caretakers. 

One look at David's face was all he needed. Patrick stepped into the boat and pulled David carefully with him. 

"Now what?" Patrick asked wrapping his arms around David and kissing him firmly.

"There, on the seat." David gestured to where Patrick had been sitting earlier. "Do you think anybody can see us now?" David teased, before falling to his knees and opening the ties of Patrick's pants. Patrick grabbed tight to the board seat to keep himself as still as he could, while David set about taking both of them apart, the pounding of the rain drowning out their cries. 

David pulled a shaking and spent Patrick down on top of himself in the bottom of the boat, and snuggled closely to his handsome fiance. "I love you," he whispered into Patrick's wet auburn curls. 

"I love you too. Oh god, we're a mess," Patrick groaned, coming slowly to his senses. They were dripping wet with water and smeared with cum and lying in the bottom of a boat. Slowly, Patrick started to laugh, and he pulled David more tightly against himself. "I love you so much David," he laughed as he pressed their wet lips together. 

"See, I told you it was romantic," David murmured, before scooting down to place his head on Patrick's muscular shoulder and close his eyes. Patrick smiled into the dim light, listened to the rain, and gently rubbed David's back. 

Patrick thought of the unhappiness of his life three years ago in Brewington, when he felt stifled and restless. He thought of the unease of his life two years ago when he left home and began training to become a knight in a distant part of the kingdom far away from everyone he had ever known. He thought of the stimulation of his life a year ago, when he came to court and set about proving himself and excelling on a path he had picked for himself. And he thought of the titillation of his life seven months ago, when he had gotten to know David and burned with the thought of him. When he had teased David during the day and dreamed of touching him at night. None of those past Patricks could have imagined what had just happened. And even if they had, they would never have imagined feeling this at peace and this fulfilled.

When the storm settled, Patrick gently woke David, who immediately lamented the pain from his cramped limbs and the permanent bruises on his back from sleeping in the bottom of a boat. Patrick chuckled, stood, and stepped out onto land. His muscles ached too and he stretched and groaned. David suddenly stilled, his eyes focused on the planes of Patrick's body as they shifted underneath his clothes.

"What?" Patrick asked, catching David's frozen expression. 

"Nothing," David said suddenly, shaking his head loose. A small smile slipped across his lips, and he looked Patrick in the eye. "Sometimes I forget how gorgeous you are." 

David stepped toward the light trickling in from the castle side of the boathouse. "Do you realize," David asked, looking back at Patrick over his shoulder, “that we have now been caught in two rainstorms and fucked in two little house-thingies?" David gestured around him as he finished the question. 

"Yeah, well I look forward to being able to fuck you in our bed soon." Patrick grinned at David. "See, you're not the only one who can be romantic."

"Okay," David retorted, straightening his clothing. 

"So, how do you feel about the lake for the venue?" Patrick asked as he dressed, his voice studiously even. 

"No. No no nononono. No. We are not getting married on that lake. While I appreciate how dashing you look when wet, we will not be going near any large bodies of water on our wedding day."

"Then what about the boathouse?" Patrick pressed. We could sit in that boat,” he said as he gestured at the one they had just crawled out of. “We wouldn't even be in the water, but it would be like my important tradition.” 

David just glared at Patrick out of the corner of his eye. 

"So what venue do you have in mind?" Patrick asked, peering out the door at the drizzle.

"Oh, Alexis has that all planned out," David said, glancing nervously at Patrick. 

"Oh she does?" Patrick returned, an edge to his voice. 

"Okay, no, she has an idea that she wants to pitch to you. Obviously, if you don't like it, I'm sure we can find somewhere else. Except you'll need to be prepared because once she has an idea she does not give up easily."

"Hmmm."

"Okay, I know she's a bit much--" 

Patrick's eyebrows launched themselves off his face at this. "Oh, and you weren't involved in this idea?"

"--okay, yes, but it's a nice idea. I'm not saying we have to go with it. But maybe... you could... consider it? When she asks?" 

Patrick huffed a sigh. "Okay, I will consider it. But that does not mean I'm saying yes. This is my wedding too, David. When I look back at the happiest day of my life, I want to be able to see myself in it. Okay?"

"Okay," David breathed, quickly running his left hand up and down over his lips to hide the smile trying to burst across his face. 

David had been right about Alexis. When Patrick found his seat at dinner, he was surprised to see Alexis drop into the seat at his other side. Usually she sat on the other side of her father. “Hi Alexis," Patrick said, bracing himself for the onslaught. The intensity under the sparkle in her eye clearly indicated that it was pitch time. 

When she finished, Patrick nodded thoughtfully. He could see that plan, for himself and for David. It made sense for them. In fact, it made more sense for Patrick than it did for David, which made the corners of Patrick's mouth flutter gently. David really had thought about Patrick when he had worked on this plan with Alexis. 

"Ew, Patrick, stop doing that with your face," Alexis said, scrunching hers up in response. 

Patrick huffed out a laugh, and gave a quick nod. "I like it. That could work." Patrick tilted his head to the side. "Is there a backup option?" 

Alexis beamed. "Of course it will work, Patrick." She settled herself back in the seat and picked up her wine. "Our backup option is the long gallery, but I really don't think we need to go down that road. I have a good feeling about this." Alexis leaned forward and booped Patrick on the nose. "Now let's talk about your parents. Do you think they will want to be involved, or?"

When David slipped into his seat, Alexis and Patrick were in full wedding planning swing. David's mouth twisted up in a tender smile. It was a Tuesday. Their wedding would be in one month. David could not wait.


	4. The Royal Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will they or won't they get married?!  
Spoiler: they will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to NeelyO for saying lovely things to me and giving me the confidence to continue this story. And thank you again to EmuFume and Smarty_Pants for your unwavering support of Prince David.  
As always, a hearty toast to my Rosebuddies.

The first Madriggal fell on a Saturday. Reeverine Jocelyn became feverish while weaving a tapestry of gamboling kittens. She was removed bodily from the textile room and taken to her chamber, where she was officiously tended by her husband, Reeve Roland, Jester and Officiant of the Kingdom of Rosewood.

The second Madriggal fell at dusk. She was a less prominent Madriggal who David vaguely recognized as the one who flirted with much younger men at court festivals, and whose name he had never known.

When David heard that two of the people who were supposed to sing him down the aisle on his big day had fallen ill, he started pacing. When he heard that Madame Twyla had also withdrawn to consult her tea leaves for an indefinite period, David started panicking.

“David, it’s going to be okay. There are still, what, eight more Madriggals. It’s going to be fine.”

“Okay, no. It’s not going to be fine. What if there’s a plague?! Oh my god, I’m going to die before I even get to marry you!” David reached up as if he were going to pull at his hair, and then wrapped his hands around the back of his neck instead. Patrick quirked a small smile. If David was still taking his hair into consideration, Patrick would probably be able to talk David off this ledge.

As Patrick opened his mouth, Lady Stevie swept into the portrait gallery. She nodded at Patrick, then turned to David. “Are you sitting down?”

“No,” David responded, gesturing to his visibly standing body.

“Good.”

At this, David’s eyebrows joined his arms in their gesticulations.

“You know how Reeverine Jocelyn and what’s her name got the fever last night, and Madam Twyla fell ill this morning?”

“Yes???” David motioned for her to keep going, while Patrick availed himself of a nearby windowseat.

“Reeve Roland is sick too. So. Just thought you should know.” At these tidings, Stevie turned on her heel and swept down the hall.

“And you’re just going to tell me that and then leave?!?!” David shouted after her.

“Duty calls. The princess needs my assistance.”

“What about ME?! What could possibly be so important that you would leave me right now?”

With a sigh, Lady Stevie turned around to face David again. “We’re supposed to get a new falconer today, but with everyone getting horribly ill, Princess Alexis is going to have to welcome him. Her Highness the Queen dramatically quarantined herself in her room. And, naturally, King Johnny is in there taking care of her, since she won’t let anyone else in. Not even Caroline and Magdalena, and you know they’ve been with her forever. Oh, and of course Patrick’s parents left for that tour of the kingdom yesterday. So.” Stevie turned back around and continued toward the gallery exit.

“What if it’s the plague?” she remarked over her shoulder.

“You are not my very best friend and I don’t love you very much!!!” David called after her retreating figure.

Stevie turned and, with a smirk, swept out of sight.

Patrick sprung up from his perch in the window and walked over to David. He reached up to run his hand lightly down David’s arm, gentling him.

“Oh my GOD! What if I get it?!?!”

“David, it’s not the plague. David. David, look at me.” Patrick stepped in front of his fiance and placed both hands on David’s upper arms, looking steadfastly into David’s panicked eyes.

“David, it’s probably what you had before. A fever. People will get sick, but they will probably recover and be fine.”

David nodded, but his head was flung back and his eyes were tightly closed.

“David, listen. It can’t be the plague. No one new has come to the castle in over a month.” The lines around David’s eyes relaxed slightly, so Patrick kept talking, softening his tone. “You already had the fever. You probably won’t get it again.”

Suddenly David’s eyes flew open. “Oh my god the falconer! The falconer brought the plague!”

Patrick moved his hands up to David’s broad shoulders and massaged them gently. “David, the falconer isn’t even here yet. And Reeverine Jocelyn got sick yesterday. Look at me.” Patrick coaxed David to look into his eyes. “David, the falconer did not bring the plague. There is no plague, because it isn’t possible for there to be a plague. Do you understand?”

Slowly, Patrick felt David’s shoulder muscles relax under his fingers.

“Good,” Patrick said, running his hands down David’s arms and taking David’s hands in his.

Moments later, Patrick’s fingers felt a sudden squeeze. Patrick took a deep calming breath. Apparently a new fear had gripped David, and Patrick was going to find a way to soothe him. Patrick just needed to stay calm.

“What if _you_ get the fever?!” David whispered. His brown eyes looked startlingly big in his face as his eyebrows climbed visibly toward his forehead. Patrick took another deep internal calming breath. It was okay. He had an answer for this one.

But before he could speak, David continued. “What if you die before I get to marry you?” David pulled their clenched hands to his chest.

“David, do you remember when you were sick?” Patrick got a nod that looked a lot like “obviously,” so Patrick kept going. “And who took care of you when you were sick?”

“You did,” David said with his words while his body language said “get on with it.”

“That’s right. I took care of you when you had the fever, probably similar to the fever that’s going around now. And did I get sick?”

“No.”

“I did not get sick. So that means that I probably won’t get sick this time. Right?”

“Right,” David said begrudgingly. But then Patrick watched relief rush over David’s face as the meaning of what Patrick had said sunk in. David probably would not get sick, and Patrick probably would not get sick, and other than having a handful fewer Madriggals to sing David down the aisle, it would all be okay. David’s parents were quarantined, Alexis was made of steel, Patrick’s parents were safely away from the palace, and Stevie only got sick when she did too much experimenting in Madam Twyla’s herb collection.

Patrick bit his lip, then glanced up at David from beneath his eyelashes. “If you want to get married right now, I’d do it. I don’t care about any of the rest of it, as long as I get to be married to you.”

“Okay, that was very sweet, but Stevie_ just_ told us that Reeve Roland is ill!” David exclaimed, dropping Patrick’s hands and rubbing his palms against his neck again.

David’s eyes dropped back to Patrick’s. “That was very sweet though.”

“It’s the truth.” Patrick kissed David, and then stepped back. “Let’s go help with this falconer.”

“WHY do we need a falconer,” David groaned.

“I don’t know, your mother is really into birds right now.”

***

Princess Alexis was also apparently very into birds. Every day when Patrick left the stables, he saw the princess near the falcon mews, talking with the trainer. When the falconer looked at her, Alexis would sweep her hair back and smile, and when the birds flew to the falconer’s arm, Alexis’s face would distort in disgust.

Patrick just laughed. He wondered how long it would be before the trainer caught Princess Alexis’s horrified faces at his beloved birds. Guessing by the dopey look on the trainer’s face every time he looked at Alexis, Patrick guessed the trainer would probably think it was charming. Or at least endurable.

David too saw Alexis and the trainer from his window when he would peek out to watch his strapping fiance wrangle horses. Alexis and the falconer never held his attention for long. Patrick on horseback was truly a sight to behold. David could not see the thick planes of muscle shifting and flexing all the way from his room, but he could imagine them, and he could remember how they felt under his hands. Picturing how that in-control face fell apart at his touch, David would leave hurriedly for the stables. With more people falling ill every day (including seven Maddrigals and counting), there were a lot fewer people out and about to notice that David went to the stables but never rode a horse.

On day eleven before the wedding, David watched Patrick from the window until he could not stand it anymore. He knew he could not paw Patrick apart in sight of the castle windows, but he had an idea. David carefully dressed in the outfit that he knew Patrick liked the best. Then he left the castle, strode toward the enclosure, and leaned against the paddock fence.

When Patrick caught sight of David, his focused face broke out into a huge grin. When Patrick noticed what David was wearing, Patrick’s face focused again quickly. Patrick rode over slowly and purposefully. David had posed himself so picturesquely that Patrick was tempted to take him against the fence.

When Patrick was ten feet away from where David stood, David smirked at Patrick, turned, and walked toward the stable. A flush crept up Patrick’s neck. Looking at the gate, he noticed that David had unlatched it and left it open just wide enough for Patrick to ride through.

Patrick and Freesia slipped through the opening and followed several paces behind David. Patrick deliberately kept the horse at a walk so that he could drink in the sight of his tall, dark, and handsome fiance’s rear aspect. Patrick’s palms sweat at the thought that David was walking away from him and toward him at the same time.

Right at the door to the stable, David stopped abruptly. Patrick swung off Freesia and walked the horse forward to see the cause of David’s arrested movement. Patrick heard the voices before he saw their owners.

A flirtatious laugh drifted out of the stables, followed by an enthusiastic male voice. Tucking himself next to David in the shadows, Patrick saw Princess Alexis and Falconer Theodore standing shoulder to shoulder at Symphonie’s stall.

“Oh, Ted,” Princess Alexis said, pushing him playfully with a limp wrist. Falconer Theodore’s face lit up at the contact, and he swallowed, his eyes glued to the princess’s pretty face.

Alexis batted her eyes at him once, then turned her whole body toward him. “You have something in your hair,” she lied as she ran her fingers through it. She then absently laid her cool palm on Falconer Ted’s neck and smiled at him.

Patrick nudged David and whispered “wow, she is good.” David turned to Patrick and made a face. “Well this is _not_ what I had in mind,” he whispered in exasperation, turning from the sight of his sister and the bird man and letting out a huff.

Patrick ran his free hand down David’s arm. “Eleven days,” Patrick whispered, before giving David a kiss on the cheek and sending him back to the castle with a pat on the ass. “See you at dinner.” Patrick turned, loudly asked Freesia if he wanted a carrot, and waited a beat before stepping out of the shadows and into the stable.

Patrick watched Princess Alexis and Falconer Theodore spring apart with a grin.

“Your Highness, Falconer Theodore,” Patrick greeted the young pair genially.

“Oh, you can call me Ted, Lord Patrick” the falconer responded cheerfully.

“Okay, Ted,” Patrick responded, while his eyes swept over to Alexis, who was watching Patrick carefully.

“I’m just going to take care of Freesia, then head back to the castle. I should be about.. thirty minutes? If you want to wait and head back with me.” Patrick said lightly to her.

“No thanks, I think we’ll do anything but that, thank you,” Alexis countered, pulling Ted along in her wake like a toy boat on a string.

“You could always take a trail ride!” Patrick called after them, chuckling to himself.

When Patrick took his seat at dinner, he could tell immediately that David was back in panic mode.

“Another Madriggal is down with the fever. There are only two left! TWO!”

“So it’ll be a duet,” Patrick said matter of factly.

David’s hands stilled. “Okay. A duet. That’ll probably be... fine.” David thudded his back heavily against the chair and nodded. “Okay.”

Princess Alexis swept by. “Ew, what David,” she snapped, seeing the look he gave her. Turning to Patrick, she said “Come to the venue after dinner. We’re starting to get it set up. See what you think.” After a glare at David, Alexis stepped away with her nose at an increased elevation. Patrick turned to his fiance after Alexis left.

“I can’t help but think of her and that little falconer,” David said, his lip curling.

“Would we say little?” Patrick countered, hoping to tease David out of his disquietude. “He looked pretty strong to me.”

“He _what_?!”

Patrick just chuckled and took a sip of mead.

After dinner, Alexis stopped by their seats and gestured for them to follow her. She was right. Preparation was underway and things were starting to come together. David smiled, taking it all in. Then David turned to Alexis. “It looks very nice. But make sure the staff do as much as they can now, before they all get the plague.”

“Oh my god, ew David.” Alexis turned back to survey the scene. It really was going to be beautiful.

That night, after the evening entertainment and when the castle was largely asleep, Patrick heard a quiet tap at his door.

Smiling ravenously, he padded across the floor and opened the door. Patrick surged against David with a searing kiss.

David returned the kiss enthusiastically as he maneuvered them inside and closed the door.

He asked “what if it hadn’t been me?” each word bracketed by a kiss.

“I was lying in bed thinking about you, and I was so turned on that I would have kissed anyone who was on the other side of that door.” Patrick spun David around and pushed him down on the bed. “Lucky it was you.”

David locked his legs around Patrick and pulled him down on top of himself. Patrick’s laugh turned to a groan as David placed his hands on Patrick’s thin sleeping tunic and squeezed large handfuls of Patrick’s thick ass.

“Clothes. Off,” Patrick growled, taking his own tunic by the hem and removing it in one fluid motion, before turning to David’s robe and untying it like a bow.

Patrick got to his feet and pulled David up after him. Slowly, Patrick hooked his thumbs under the edge of David’s robe and thrust it to the floor. “Leave it,” he ordered, before grasping the hem of David’s tunic and lifting it over his fiance’s head. Patrick’s eyes raked over David, head to toe and back. “I guess I can make do with this being on the other side of my door.”

Patrick’s words were belied by his hard cock and the fire in his eyes. Patrick’s hands grabbed greedily at David.

“Don’t you want to get on the bed?” David suggested.

“I can’t wait, David.” Patrick sunk to his knees and took David down in one motion.

“Holy fuck,” David whispered as he threw his head back.

Patrick took David’s hands and placed them in his hair, before reaching around David and squeezing his ass in retaliation. David’s hips bucked, and he started thrusting into Patrick’s mouth, while Patrick hummed around him.

“Patrick I’m going to--”

Using David’s glutes as leverage, Patrick pressed himself impossibly farther onto David’s cock and sucked down his come in noisy gulps. Pulling back and looking David in the eye, Patrick licked his lips.

David’s eyes darkened and he pulled Patrick to standing, before pushing him onto the bed.

Patrick pulled himself up the bed onto the pillows, and David crawled after him. Straddling Patrick’s legs, David reached to start prepping himself, but Patrick grabbed David’s hands and moved them to Patrick’s cock instead. “Mine,” Patrick said in a deep voice, before propping himself up and working David open.

Patrick was lost in his senses. The taste of David’s cum in his mouth, the feel of David’s body moving and opening around his fingers, the sight of David’s gorgeous body and blissful face, the feel of David’s soft hands pulling expertly at Patrick’s cock, and the view of his cock throbbing pink and jutting out of David’s hands over and over and over again.

“I’m ready,” David whispered, bending down to kiss Patrick passionately before taking hold of Patrick’s cock and slowly filling himself with it.

“Oh god, David, you feel so good,” Patrick moaned, trying desperately to hold still but wanting to buck into that tight heat.

With a sudden rush of sensation, Patrick felt David move on his cock, up and down, setting a sensual pace as David’s head fell back and his eyes closed.

“Patrick, you’re so big. You’re so big for me. This is so good, you have no idea how good you feel in me.”

Patrick reached for David’s swelling cock, but David grabbed Patrick’s hands and pinned them down as he shifted his angle and began thrusting himself back onto Patrick harder and harder. “I want to focus on how you feel inside me. Oh my god, Patrick.” David bit his lip and started panting.

Patrick tested David’s grip on his arms, but David pressed them back into the mattress.

“David!” Patrick cried, before coming hard. David collapsed onto Patrick, and Patrick wrapped his arms around David, gently stroking his back. “That was so good, honey,” Patrick whispered, before pressing a kiss into David’s hair. After a minute, David slowly pulled himself out of Patrick's sweet embrace and stood, looking around for something to clean them up.

“This is your room?” was the somewhat unexpected comment.

“Yes, David. This is my room,” Patrick replied, bemused. David’s room was much nicer than his, but then again David was the prince, and Patrick was just a knight. “But I think it’s homey," Patrick teased. "There’s a wardrobe over there that looks to have been used by a parlor maid about three hundred years ago. An antique, really.”

“Thank you for making it clear you will be moving into my room after the wedding.”

Patrick winked in response.

***

It was a Tuesday, a week before the wedding, when the penultimate Madriggal went down with the fever.

“It can still be a solo,” Patrick consoled David.

Ultimately, it did not matter to Patrick whether David came down the aisle to this song or to a harp or instruments or silence or anything. The thought of David walking down the aisle toward him in any soundscape filled Patrick with peace and pride. But this song was special to David. When Patrick asked David why, David took a deep breath and paused to arrange his thoughts into words. “Because it says everything I want to say but is too hard to say myself.”

"Okay then," Patrick thought. He was going to make this happen for David.

Four days before the wedding, everyone with fever was still down, but no one new had fallen in the prior three days. Patrick sighed with relief that his parents, who planned to return in two days from their small tour of the kingdom, would miss the period of contagion.

Countess Ronnie begrudgingly continued to prepare for her solo as the last standing Madriggal. Patrick, in an attempt to take charge of the situation, had gone to Ronnie to tell her how important it was that she do well, for David. If Patrick knew Ronnie better, he would have known that questioning her abilities was the exact worst way to motivate her, and now she glared daggers at Patrick every time she saw him. Still, she had not quit, so at least the music part was still under control. With that and what Patrick had planned for the reception, they should be set on the musical front. A fair number of the court musicians were still healthy.

While Patrick managed the music, Alexis and David expertly handled the visual aspects. The venue was already transformed into a wonderland, gorgeous flowers festooned every interior surface, the castle was tastefully decorated, the wedding clothes were designed and sewn, and the feast and the guests and the seating were all arranged.

There was just one last thing to address. The officiant. Reeve Roland was still down with fever. With all the other preparations, Patrick was pretty sure David had forgotten about this small detail. Patrick was going to take charge of this. It was three days until the wedding, and they had to figure out who could marry them.

Patrick interrupted a bickering David and Alexis by placing his hand on David’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” David asked distractedly, lips pursed, as he spun around at the touch.

“David, we need to talk about the officiant.”

“The officiant?”

“The officiant. We need someone to marry us?” Patrick prodded.

“Oh, that’s already taken care of,” Alexis interjected, glancing distractedly at Lady Stevie who was making her way over to the group, before turning with a silken swish back to the candles.

At first, Patrick was too surprised to respond. “What-- who?”

“Hmmmmm,” Alexis murmured absently, gesturing for the attendant to try first one arrangement of candles and then another, and yet another. David watched this process with his hands on his hips, studying the effect of each placement.

Stevie rolled her eyes at the siblings, before turning to Patrick. “The officiant is Ray.”

“Who is Ray?” Patrick asked.

“You know Ray,” Stevie responded without inflection.

“_Viscount_ Ray? Ray who I trained with when I left Brewington, Ray up north?” Patrick had asked Ray to the wedding, and knew he was supposed to arrive in the next day or two, but no one had mentioned this.

“Yep.” Stevie responded.

“He’s an officiant?” Patrick pressed.

“Oh yeah, Ray does lots of things. I think he got ordained as a court officiant about six or seven years ago.”

“O-kay.” Patrick shook his head to try to clear it. He had lived with Ray for months. How did he not know this? But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Ray liked to be involved in everything. “Okay. But does_ he_ know he’s officiating?”

“Yep.”

Patrick looked around. “Is he here? _How_ does he know?”

“I sent a message to him when Reeve Roland fell ill.” She looked at the bickering siblings for another beat, then turned toward the door. “Well this looks riveting. But as much as I’d like to stay, I have to go help Countess Ronnie run through that song for the seven hundredth time.” And with a sweep of her skirt, Lady Stevie was gone.

Patrick turned to David. “David, did you know that Ray is the officiant?”

“Hmmmm?” David half turned toward Patrick again, but his eyes stayed fixed on the candles. “Viscount Ray? Yes.” David turned all the way around. “He’s very chatty, but it will be so much better than Roland, you know?”

Two days before the wedding, David and Patrick stood looking out the window at the sunset, arms around each other, when they saw Coachman Bob pull the Brewington carriage under the leafy canopy of the tree-lined drive. David squeezed Patrick’s shoulder lightly as Patrick’s face broke into a huge smile. Relief rushed through Patrick as the fear that they would be unavoidably detained swept away.

One day before the wedding, Queen Moira emerged from the chamber in which she had closeted herself. King Johnny, who had waited on her hand and foot for weeks, materialized with her, emitting palpable waves of relief. When the trumpets played and the sovereigns stepped into the feast hall on the afternoon before the nuptials, David clasped his hands under his chin and smiled with gratification.

David expected to be anxious in the last days, but instead, he was relatively calm. He knew that everything was exactly how he wanted it, he still had one Madriggal, and in two days he would wake up next to his husband. David’s lingering concern (other than that the last Madriggal would fall ill and that Reeve Roland would recover) had been that his mother would have hidden herself away in her chambers so completely that his parents would not appear for the wedding. Now, even that fear was gone.

***

The morning of the wedding dawned gorgeously golden and wrought with alarm.

Stevie knocked on Patrick’s door before the sun had heaved her full orb over the horizon. At the sound, Patrick scrambled to finish dressing and opened the door.

Patrick’s eyes flew open in concern when he looked at her face. “David?”

“David’s fine,” Stevie hastily reassured him. “Well, not fine. Or, he is now, but he won’t be. When he wakes up.” She changed tack. “It’s Ronnie. She’s ill.”

“Oh, f---” Patrick muttered, running his hands down his face. “Is it the fever?”

“I don’t know. I assume so, but she doesn’t actually have a fever.”

“Okay. So… maybe she’s not that sick?” he tried.

“She doesn’t have a voice. At all. She is completely hoarse, and she’s too tired to get out of bed.”

“Oh god,” Patrick said, dropping his head into his hands. “Okay, I just. I have to figure this out.”

“Listen, Patrick.” Stevie paused, twisting the maroon velvet of her skirt between her fingers. She looked more anxious than Patrick had ever seen her. “I could do it.” Stevie’s eyes showed nervousness and determination in equal measure.

Patrick stared blankly at her.

“I can do the song,” Stevie said louder. She took a deep breath. “I know the song. I’ve heard Ronnie sing it about eight hundred times in the last two weeks.”

Before even Patrick realized it was happening, Patrick reached out and pulled Stevie into a hug. She stood there rigidly with her hands at her sides, but a tiny smile slipped across her lips for a moment, before she tucked it away in the inner chamber where she kept her displays of joy. “Okay, leaving,” she said, pushing Patrick aside and retreating the way she had come.

“Thank you Stevie!” Patrick called after her retreating figure.

Patrick put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. Crisis averted. He did not even want to think about what David would have said.

“Stevie, wait!” Patrick called suddenly, jogging until he caught up with her. “What are we going to tell David?”

“I was thinking… let’s _not_ tell David.”

Patrick thought for a minute. “Okay.” At Patrick grin, Stevie put her arms up to ward off any more potential hugs, and then turned again and walked away.

Patrick was surprised to discover that he felt anxious now that Stevie was gone and he was alone. He had not realized how grounding he found her presence. And today of all days, Patrick needed grounding. Patrick was excited and nervous and just wanted to sink into David’s arms and hold on tight.

Patrick already knew David grounded him. David made Patrick’s questioning mind still. David gave Patrick purpose. When he was with David, the truly important things were lit like floodlights in his mind while all the superfluities faded to gray.

Patrick looked at the sky to gauge how long he had to wait until breakfast and, hopefully, the sight of David. But a sigh of disappointment escaped Patrick when breakfast ended and David had not appeared. Patrick considered seeking his fiance, but as soon as Patrick had made up his mind to do so, Patrick’s parents claimed him for a full morning bonding session.

When Patrick appeared for lunch, he eagerly scanned the hall for David.

Disappointment jabbed Patrick again at the sight of David’s empty place. The disappointment was followed by a flutter of unease when Patrick’s eyes scanned to the right and saw Stevie sitting next to his seat.

Patrick strode over to her, making polite faces and incomprehensible murmurs at the people who attempted to waylay him as he traversed the room.

“I have some… news” Stevie explained as Patrick landed in the chair at her side.

“Tell me.” Patrick’s emotive eyes sharpened to pinpoints of focus.

“Okay, chill, it’s nothing like that,” Stevie leaned back languorously and took a sip from the wineglass in her hand.

_Like what_ remained unsaid. Patrick knew that Stevie knew that his concern was David. If David was okay, he could weather this news. If David was not okay, Stevie would have told him already.

Patrick took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He deliberately picked up his mead and took a gulp. Carefully placing the cup back on the table, Patrick turned to Stevie and said “News.”

“One person seems to have recovered. From the fever.”

“That’s great. What’s the news.”

“It’s Reeve Roland.”

“Oh,” Patrick said, leaning back again suddenly. “Oh no.”

“Yes.”

“Does David know?” Patrick asked.

“God no,” Stevie scoffed.

“Right. Okay. Can Ray still officiate?”

“I asked King Johnny, and apparently not. Protocol and whatever.” Stevie waved the last words away with a flap of her wrist. “_If_ Roland is there, Roland gets to officiate.”

Patrick wiped a hand over his face, his head tipped back. Suddenly he looked at Stevie, his eyes bright and hard.

“_If_ Roland is there.” Patrick looked closely at Stevie. “But if he’s not--.”

“But if he’s not,” she answered.

Patrick and Stevie each nodded at each other once, and Stevie stood.

“See you at sunset, Lord Patrick” she said brusquely over her shoulder. But there was an acknowledgement there which Patrick had never quite heard from her before.

The afternoon passed slowly. Patrick spied Alexis talking emphatically to his parents right before they abducted him to a part of the castle far away from the wedding preparations. After about three hours of hand-wringing nervous excitement, cut with miserable tedium, he was escorted to his chamber to be changed into his wedding clothes. He was a little excited-- he had not seen his wedding suit yet. David had wanted it to be a surprise.

When Patrick saw his garments laid out his hand came up to cover his smile. They were beautiful. They were made of gorgeous shades of blue velvet and silk with silver detailing. Patrick reached out to stroke a sleeve, and his hand froze.

Patrick bent hastily and peered at the garments closely. He ran his eyes and fingers over every piece of cloth, until, finally, he threw his head back and laughed. He laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks.

Every stitch of his wedding clothes had been sewn with purple thread.

“Oh David,” he thought. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

As Patrick was maneuvered into his garments downstairs, David in his turret stroked his fingers over his own beautiful wedding clothes. So far, David had enjoyed a lovely day. He had woken naturally in the late morning, eaten a full breakfast in his room, taken a long and luxurious bath, eaten a delicious late lunch with Stevie, and allowed himself to be groomed and pampered and distracted until it was time to put on his wedding suit.

As he swept his long fingers across the black brocade, butterflies cavorted through his insides. David had never been more excited in his life. The cloth in front of him was tangible evidence that the day had arrived, the details were perfect, his favorite song would lead him down the aisle, and Patrick would be waiting for him at the end. At that final thought, all the rest of it, even the pleasant things, fell away into nothing. Patrick would be his. And he would be Patrick’s. Nothing compared to that.

As the wedding hour drew near, the butterflies changed to tiny sparks which shot through his body in currents and waves. David shook his arms and legs and checked his reflection and touched up his hair and smoothed his garments.

At long last, just as disquiet had inveigled its way into his thoughts, he heard a small knock. Stevie poked her head around the door, a smile spreading across her face. “You look good. Are you ready?” she asked, in the softest voice David had ever heard her use.

David expelled his fears on a cleansing breath.

“I’m ready.” His eyes sparkled, but no words could convey his joy in this moment. His best friend was radiant with happiness for him, and the best man he knew was waiting to affirm every good thing David had to offer with his unwavering love. He was happy, and he was ready.

Stevie and David made their way through the palace until they stood in the shadow of an elaborate wood door tucked snugly into the curve of a gray stone arch. Stevie turned to face David, took a deep breath, and gave him a quick hug. “See you out there,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

David turned as Alexis stepped to his side. She was dressed in silver and shone like the moon. Tears of every emotion in the world burned in David’s eyes.

Alexis took David’s hand in hers and spoke in a matter of fact voice.

“Right now, everyone is taking their places.” Alexis’s large azure eyes focused on David’s deep brown eyes. “Patrick is out there, right now, waiting to start his life with you. I saw him. _He is there_.”

A small sob escaped David on the tail of a laugh, and a tear spilled free.

“Is this really happening?”

Alexis, always good in a crisis, squeezed his hand hard where it rested forgotten in hers. “Yes, this is happening. And in four minutes, this door is going to swing open, and we are going to walk into a perfectly designed and decorated fairyland that you curated. We will walk down the aisle of blue silk. And when we get to the end of that aisle, you’re going to take Patrick’s hands in yours--” here Alexis squeezed David’s hand again-- “and then he will take care of you.”

“Why do I have to walk down the aisle to him? It would have been so much easier to just be out there already!”

“Because you asked to.” Alexis booped his nose. “Okay, it’s time. Oh, and Mom and Dad are out there too, by the way.” Alexis smiled the kindest smile he had ever seen on her face. “Showtime.”

As if on cue, the large wooden door was pulled open, and the light of the setting sun spilled through and cast a golden ring of light around David and Alexis.

David was so overwhelmed for a moment, he stood stunned. But when Alexis’s arm tugged him forward, his feet began to bear him down the aisle. As he walked, he looked at the faces surrounding him. He saw his parents, he saw Stevie, he saw the Brewingtons and Viscount Ray and Patrick. His Patrick, gazing back at David like he had invented the world. And David did not know how he would ever be able to tear his eyes away.

Until precisely three seconds later, when Stevie stepped forward and began to sing. Her voice was tentative at first, and then it strengthened and swelled until it reverberated through the garden where Patrick had proposed to David:

_I don't get many things right the first time,_  
_In fact, I am told that a lot_  
_Now I know all the wrong turns the stumbles,_  
_And falls brought me here_

  
_And where was I before the day_  
_That I first saw your lovely face,_  
_Now I see it every day_

_And I know_  
_That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest_

_What if I’d been born fifty years before you_  
_In a palace, in a kingdom_  
_Where you lived_  
_Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your horse. Would I know?_

_And in a wide sea of eyes_  
_I see one pair that I recognize_

_And I know_  
_That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest_

_I love you more than I have_  
_Ever found the way to say_  
_To you_

_My grandfather lived to his nineties and one day_  
_Passed away in his sleep,_  
_And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days, and passed away_  
_I'm sorry I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong,_  
_That I know_  
_That I am, I am, I am, the luckiest_

David looked from Stevie to Patrick and back to Stevie, and the tears pricking David’s eyes began to stream down his face.

When David looked back to Patrick, he saw Patrick smiling at him, his eyes shining with his own tears of joy. Patrick nodded softly to David, answering the question he read in the arch of David’s eyebrow. At that nod, David realized that somehow Patrick had known Stevie would sing the song. That somehow this had been planned. That Patrick and Stevie and Alexis had done everything they could do to give him the most magical wedding he could ever have imagined.

David took his last steps almost into Patrick’s arms. Patrick held him steady and looked at him like his eyes were made of the fiber of his heart.

Hand in hand, they turned to Ray, who beamed with excitement. David and Patrick sneaked smirks at each other. Ray was quite a personality, but he was a vast improvement on the alternative.

As Ray’s last exuberant word reverberated in the twilight air, David and Patrick softly pressed their lips together in the presence of their families. Forever had begun.

Patrick and David clasped hands and beamed as they walked back down the aisle into the palace for the wedding reception. Stevie and Alexis led the other guests in their wake.

Their eyes sparkled at the sight that awaited them. Swathes of dark blue and white silk festooned the ballroom. The light from thousands of candles bounced off the gleaming metal of the musicians’ instruments. The scent of thousands of white flowers filled the space with the memory of the marital garden.

Music washed over David and Patrick as they walked to their seats, which had been swathed in black and white harlequin painted silk for this celebration. “Hi,” David whispered, once they were seated. “Hey,” Patrick whispered back.

“So…where’s Ronnie?”

“Oh, she’s sick. Apparently can’t even speak. So.”

David’s eyes searched the ballroom until they settled softly on Lady Stevie. “So.”

“She’s a pretty great friend.” Patrick said as he stroked David’s shoulder.

“Yeah, she is,” David responded with eyes shining at Stevie as she made her way over to them.

“Congratulations,” she said with a fragile smile.

“Thank you,” David murmured back.

“Yeah well. You’re lucky I didn’t sing a drinking song or something.” Stevie rolled each shoulder around and twitched with embarrassment.

“I can’t believe Ronnie got sick after all,” David said, as he tried to think of a way to change the subject and ease her discomfort. “At least we still had Ray.”

“Yeeeeah,” Stevie responded, her eyes shifting to the side. “Anyway! Time for first the dance.”

“Oh no, Stevie. Dinner first,_ then_ dancing,” Alexis corrected, gliding up to the table. She turned to smile at the grooms. “And then we will have first dances. And then--… and after that I will welcome all the guests onto the dance floor,” Alexis finished, gesturing with a sweep of her full body.

The food was delicious, Patrick guessed from the gusto with which David consumed it, but Patrick could barely eat a bite. He was far too busy glancing to his right and smiling. When dinner was finally over and Patrick could at last get his hands on David, the grooms rose and took the floor as the first dance music played.

“Hi Husband,” David whispered, touching his forehead gently to Patrick’s.

“Hi Husband,” Patrick whispered back, as he leaned forward and kissed David softly.

They moved gently to the music, reveling silently together in the moment. David slowly stroked his fingers over the seams at Patrick’s broad shoulders.

“Admiring your handiwork?” Patrick asked, eyebrows apparently quirked.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” David deflected as a mutinous smile twisted itself into his cheek.

“How do I look?” Patrick challenged.

“Hmmm?” David answered, tilting his head slightly in feigned ignorance.

“How do I look in purple, David? Was it everything you dreamed of?”

“Yes, actually, it is. Purple suits you. Royalty suits you, and you’re a royal now that you’re my husband.”

“Pretty sure I’d still be your husband if I weren’t in purple.”

David just grinned.

Patrick bracketed David’s head with his hands. “David.”

“Okay, I know! But it was… humorous.”

“Mmmm, you’re lucky it is,” Patrick responded as he wrapped his arms tightly around David and kissed him on the neck.

They swayed together slowly.

David craned back suddenly to look at Patrick. “I would like to note that we got married outside. Where there might have been bugs.” David grimaced on the last word.

“And?”

“And I did that for you!”

“David, you picked the venue.”

“Okay, technically, yes. But I chose it because I thought it would be special for you. I wanted you to see yourself in the day, and I thought the place where you proposed would be meaningful, and you love being outside--”

Patrick stopped his husband’s explanation with a kiss. “Thank you, David.”

David’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled diffidently. “You liked it?”

“It was perfect.” Patrick pulled David back in and rested his head on David’s shoulder, his face turned into David’s neck.

When the song was over, Patrick broke their embrace. “Stay here.”

“Okay?”

Patrick walked over to the dais where Alexis waited for him. She clapped her hands together to draw the attention of the room.

“Your Royal Highnesses, Lords and Ladies, the groom has a very special song for you. May I present Prince Patrick of Rosewood.”

Patrick nodded to the musicians to begin, stepped forward, and looked at David. David stood alone on the dance floor, exactly where Patrick had placed him. Patrick pinned David’s darting eyes to his and began to sing:

_L is for the way you look at me_  
_O is for the only one I see_  
_V is very, very extraordinary_  
_E is even more than anyone that you adore can_

_Love is all that I can give to you_  
_Love is more than just a game for two_  
_Two in love can make it_  
_Take my heart and please don't break it_  
_Love was made for me and you_

_L is for the way you look at me_  
_O is for the only one I see_  
_V is very, very extraordinary_  
_E is even more than anyone that you adore can_

_Love is all that I can give to you_  
_Love is more than just a game for two_  
_Two in love can make it_  
_Take my heart and please don't break it_  
_Love was made for me and you_  
_Love was made for me and you_  
_Love was made for me and you_

As Patrick sang, Lady Marcy stepped across the dance floor to David’s side.

“Would you like to dance?”

David gave her a surprised smile, tearing his eyes away from Patrick. “I would love to.”

They moved together for a moment, before Marcy, unable to keep the feeling inside, blurted “Thank you for making my son so happy.”

David caught his breath and gave a surprised smile.

“You’re welcome.” They moved together for another moment. “He makes me very happy too,” David added quietly.

“I’m glad. And if he ever gives you any trouble, just send for me, and I will sort him out,” she offered. “He can be very stubborn,” she added conspiratorially.

The nicer Lady Marcy was to him, the worse David felt about leaving out the one Brewington tradition that Patrick had requested.

“I’m sorry we didn’t do the boat,” David said abruptly.

“The boat?”

“The...with the vows. The boat on the lake. The tradition from the Brewington lake district.”

“Tell me more about this tradition.”

“O-kay,” David said. “The couple is rowed out on a lake and say their vows in the middle of water to show their unity in the face of nature or something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lady Marcy answered, smiling cheerfully at David.

Then she narrowed her eyes at the dais, where Patrick was singing the last notes of his song.

David gasped, and looked over at Patrick in open horror.

Patrick had been touched to see his mother and his husband dancing together. But when they turned to him with those faces he knew he had been caught. Patrick looked David in the eye and laughed delightedly.

Patrick stepped down onto the dance floor and crossed it in five paces.

“Did you like my song?” Patrick laughed, taking David’s hands in his.

“You, you, you, THE BOAT,” David spluttered.

His eyes dancing, Patrick gently curled his hand around the side of David’s head and drew himself up into a kiss. “Purple thread,” Patrick whispered against David’s lips.

Patrick heard Lady Marcy’s retreating chuckle as Patrick curled his other hand around the other side of David’s face and pulled David down into another kiss. The dance floor filled around them, but they barely noticed.

“You_ liar_,” David breathed when their lips parted.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Patrick winked slowly at David.

David’s eyes changed from indignation to intent in a moment, and he pulled Patrick toward the door.

“Hey, hey. David.” Patrick tugged gently at David’s hand and stood his ground. “You planned this beautiful wedding. Don’t you want to enjoy it a little longer? Also, we might be missed.”

David looked around, but finally sighed “Okay.”

But David’s eyes had caught on Alexis, and swinging his eyes back to her, he smirked.

“I don’t think Alexis is going to miss us.”

Patrick followed David’s gaze to where Alexis and Ted stood kissing in an alcove. “Okay, wow,” Patrick said, “They definitely will not.” He turned to check David’s reaction. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” David answered, and a soft smile spread across his face. “She looks happy.”

After a moment, Patrick squeezed David’s hand. “Duty rounds?”

“No.” David turned and pulled Patrick to him. “It’s our wedding day. Let someone else do it.” David leaned in to kiss Patrick gently as they swayed to the music. “Thank you for my song.”

“I love you David,” Patrick responded solemnly.

“I love you, Husband,” David replied, beaming shyly into Patrick’s eyes.

The rest of the wedding was as well organized and decorated as could be expected of a wedding planned by Princess Alexis and Prince David. But by the end of the evening, David and Patrick were exhausted and ready to be alone. They were concerned that if they did not retire soon, they would collapse in a motionless heap when they finally made it to their marital chamber. This was incorrect for a wedding night, and they finally slipped out of the reception.

They had made it almost to the stairs at the base of the turret when they heard a quick step behind them.

“Hey Patrick, can I borrow you real quick?” Stevie asked.

“That’s my _husband_,” David interjected. “I’m taking him to _my room_.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about that. At all. But I do need Patrick for about fifteen minutes.”

Patrick shrugged, then kissed David on the cheek. “I’ll be right back,” Patrick whispered. “To _our_ room.”

“Can’t wait,” David whispered back.

“Oh my god, you have the rest of your lives together,” Stevie said as she rolled her eyes. “Keep it in your pants for fifteen more minutes. Come on.”

Patrick was back in thirteen minutes.

“What was that about?” David asked from his perch at the side of the bed.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to hear about it,” Patrick deflected.

“Oh, I think I do.”

Patrick sighed. “Okay, fine. I had to go let Roland out.”

“Let Roland out of _what_? Doesn’t he have the fever?!”

“Funny story. No. Not since about two days ago apparently.”

“Okay?” David questioned.

“Yeah. Stevie locked him in the mead room this afternoon when she found out that he would be the officiant if he was past the illness.”

David’s face was etched with shock.

“Right. So she needed me to help get him out. Apparently the door was jammed.”

David looked ready to ask a score of questions, but then shook his head. “Never mind. That’s all I need to hear about Roland on my wedding night.”

David thought for a moment, but compunction won against his desire to get on with it already. “Is Stevie stuck with Roland now?”

“No, she said that now that the wedding is over and ‘your big day’ is safe from the plague, she’s going to go take care of Madam Twyla.”

“But enough about them,” David answered with a smirk, as he pulled Patrick on top of him. “I know someone else who needs to be taken care of.”

“For the rest of your life,” Patrick promised.

*****

They lived happily ever after, despite Alexis, occasionally. And sometimes Stevie. Often despite Queen Moira and King Johnny. Definitely despite Countess Ronnie. Because sometimes, things do work out.

The following year, Princess Alexis and Falconer Ted wed. They had four children to carry on the house of Rosewood; Anna, Emma, Hannah, and Elspeth; and everyone thought this was a very good thing indeed. Especially David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first song is a shameless adaptation of The Luckiest by Ben Folds. The second song is L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole. Thank you to Rhetorical Questions and SunlightSymphony for helping me find something fitting.


End file.
